In His Shadow
by Night Nymph
Summary: When Spike makes a deal with a demon to find out what is wrong with Buffy, he gets more than he bargained for. Set post Normal Again. Now complete.
1. Prologue

**In His Shadow**

by Night Nymph

**Summary: Spike decides he will find out what is wrong with Buffy and find a way to make it right. What he gets is a little more than he bargained for and perhaps not what it seems to be. Starts after "Normal Again."**

**Rating: R**

**Disclaimers: The characters are still not mine. The back-story is still not mine. Hope Joss doesn't mind me borrowing them again.**

**Spoilers: Everything up to "Normal Again."**

**Distribution: You can have it if you want it, just e-mail me first.**

**Dedication: This one is for w-e-coyote, Darryl J, CraZchica, Aquila, and Ivy who reviewed my first fanfic - you guys gave me the motivation to post this one - and for my husband who has always encouraged me.**

**Thanks: A big thank you to my betas Letta, Treacle Antlers and Canela for their excellent advice and input. I couldn't have done this without them. Any mistakes herein are mine.**

**Prologue**

It was infuriating to admit it, but Harris had been right. There was no denying that. Seeing Buffy alive again, realizing that it was truly her descending the staircase and not that bloody robot whose creation he'd spent over four months regretting, **had **been the happiest moment of his entire existence. For Buffy, Spike now knew, the opposite was likely true.

In fact, if he thought about it, many of the best moments of his unlife probably represented the worst of hers. Spike let the memories play through his mind as he paced restlessly in his crypt: that time he comforted her on the back porch stairs after her Mum went to the hospital, the time she invited him back into her home just before their big battle with Glory, their first kiss. Even the first time they had... well he wasn't sure if simple words could describe what happened **that night. Buffy had though. She called it the most perverse and degrading experience of her life. Even if not entirely true, definitely not a happy memory for her: just like all the others.**

Spike stopped pacing for a moment and glanced, without focus, at the dusty crypt window, its muted glow clearly showing him that the sun remained cruelly shining. His thoughts turned dark in response. He had lived, so to speak, through many disasters, many close calls, and many unhappy moments, but Buffy's death had been the worst moment of his unlife. He could remember vividly how her lifeless body lay on the cold, broken concrete, and the painful wrench of loss that followed. Not so long ago, he might have enjoyed the sight, would have danced on her grave, and perhaps that would have been better. But not anymore. He had sealed his fate the moment he'd decided to help the Slayer save the world from Angelus' crazy plan for destruction. He was lost, just as Drusilla had said.

The irony was that, for Buffy, her death had brought her release. It had meant the end of her struggles and the beginning of a peaceful afterlife. An afterlife she had been ripped from. Now she, too, was lost.

Spike started pacing again. His ruminations weren't helping, but then again, they seldom did. He had tried to figure out how to win Buffy for himself, but nothing he'd done so far had been successful. Not really. Giving her his love didn't seem to work. The few things that made any progress at all - trying to cut her down, tempting her, and isolating her from her friends - would likely destroy the Buffy he loved. Spike didn't want it to be that way, a hollow victory. It had been killing her, she'd said. How had he not realized? Well, maybe he had, but had tried not to admit it, even to himself. No, he didn't want to hurt her anymore. He really wanted to help.

Something was wrong with her, and he had to fix it, make her Buffy again. Of course that would likely mean the end of any chance he might have to be with her. _Bloody hell_, he thought, _can I really go through this all again? Losing Drusilla was bad enough._ What had he told Harmony? "Love is pain, baby." Why did he have to be so bloody right all the time? He threw an empty bottle at the crypt wall, finding little release in the scattering shards.

Spike knew he should rest, but he couldn't make himself be still. Besides, if he did sleep, he might dream, and that could break his resolve. He knew now what he had to do. He just wished the bloody sun would set already, because the waiting only made it harder. It gave his mind time to think of reasons not to do this, to keep on fighting for her love. Spike scoffed at himself. _Yeah right, you wanker, she'll never love a thing like you. Even you know it. You told her so the night she died_. God, things would have been so much simpler if it had been him who died instead. No one would have even cared. Well, maybe Little Bit.

The thought of Dawn made him smile, and he let it distract him for a while. A glassful of whiskey or two would also help. He snatched a half empty bottle from his stash, glared out the window, drowned his sorrows and waited. As soon as the sun set, he grabbed the only recent thing of Buffy's he had - her lace panties - and headed downtown. It would take him a while to find the demon he was looking for, but he had all night. Spike had the feeling it was going to be a long one.

TBC 


	2. Downtown

In His Shadow

By Night Nymph

Disclaimer, Summary, etc. – please see opening chapter.

**Chapter 1: Downtown**

Spike prowled the darkened neighborhood on the outskirts of downtown Sunnydale. He wasn't being followed, and in a way, that fact bothered him. This was prime hunting territory, and the place should be crawling with nasties. Besides, he could use a good fight to calm his nerves. No such luck, though, as the goal of his search came into view just a block ahead.

Finding the demon had been easier than Spike anticipated. The bloke wasn't necessarily shy. This in itself gave Spike pause. Demons generally liked to keep themselves low profile, especially in a town where a known Slayer resided. Those that didn't... well, he, himself, a few years ago, was a fair example, and Spike now wouldn't have wanted to meet up with his counterpart from back then. For one thing, he probably would have thought his past self too flashy and reckless - well, right before his past self staked him in the back, that is. And this demon put the Spike of old to shame in the bravado department. Not good.

His intuition told him to forget the whole thing and go home. Hell, Spike knew he was no poof. He still loved a good brawl, but he had to admit somewhat sheepishly that he was a bit more cautious now. His days of confronting demons he knew little about on their own turf were few and far between. His run ins with Doc had reminded him none too gently that even an unassuming and polite demon could be more dangerous than it appeared. Maybe that's why he found himself a bit reluctant now. _God, just quit being a git, and get the hell on with it, he told himself._

But he couldn't just yet. As he looked at the boldly colored structure with the garish gargoyle decorations, Spike wondered what magics or other defenses kept this bloke safe from attack. The building's appearance just goaded any demons in the vicinity, daring them to come and best its occupant. No one could have that big a death wish. Maybe, if Spike was lucky, this demon was all false swagger, smoke and mirrors, the little old man behind the great and powerful Oz. Yeah, right. Like he was that lucky.

Something else in the back of Spike's mind nagged at him. Why had he not noticed the building before? Well, this never was his part of town, so maybe that was it. Either that, or there was strong magic involved. _Maybe you can only see the building's true nature if you are intentionally looking for the demon_. This thought did little to encourage him. He never did like people messing around with his head, nor did he underestimate the dangers of magics - another point that had been driven home to him mercilessly in the last few months. Bloody hell, he was buggered. He just knew it. _Well, like all buggerings, best to get it over with_. He reached for the ornate knocker on the large wooden door.

Spike should have been surprised when the door swung open before his hand even reached the knocker, but he wasn't. _Messing with my head it is then, he thought. __Balls._

*********

The demon Gnash couldn't believe his eyes. The vampire really was standing on his doorstep, not three feet in front of him. He must either have a huge pair of brass ones or he must be the most foolish individual on the planet. Did the vampire really think there wasn't a demon in Sunnydale who didn't know who or what he was? Spike. William the Bloody Traitor.

The magic wards warned Gnash that someone was seeking his services, so that must be what the vampire wanted, but surely he must know better. Most demons, including him, had lost an acquaintance or had some plan or another foiled as a result of the treasonous bloodsucker. He had gall to even be standing in a real demon's presence. How could he think he wouldn't be dusted on sight? Okay, true, most demons with half a brain were hesitant to mess with Spike too seriously. If anyone dusted the Slayer's pet vampire, she was certain to find out who it was. She did have powerful witches on her team after all, and few demons wanted to discover firsthand what her idea of revenge might be once she found them. This was especially true now that rumors strongly hinted she and the vampire were lovers.

But there were other, more subtle ways to cause harm, and despite his outward bravado, Gnash's methods were nothing if not subtle. Evil often was. All he had to do was find the vampire's weakness. Every creature had at least one. Find that, and he could do some damage. Perhaps because of Spike's association with the Slayer, Gnash might even be able to take her down with the vampire. What a lovely thought. He smiled, a reaction his visitor was sure to misinterpret, and moved aside with a magnanimous gesture to allow the vampire entrance.

*********

Spike watched the demon carefully as he passed over the threshold. _No humans residing here_, he thought after finding no barrier, a seemingly absurd observation except that nowadays humans represented a threat he couldn't effectively counter without risking a severe headache. He perused the interior without trying to look obvious about it, and his newfound optimism flagged a little. _Too organized, too precise, he thought. He felt something that sent a crawling sensation down his spine, and figured that it was magic energy, something that almost always made him twitchy. As if in confirmation, his gaze caught the bookcase lined with grimoires, agents of black magic he didn't have to see up close to divine their nature. _Evil_. The thought flashed into his brain. _That's all right. I'm evil, too. Should feel right at home. Should, being the operative word. _Finally, unable to take the silence any longer and afraid he'd lose his nerve, Spike reluctantly turned his gaze back to the demon. He almost gave up right there. The demon's black eyes and angled face reminded Spike of a snake. His strong torso and thick skin made him look like he could down an ox with one blow. But even that would have been okay. Spike had fought strong nasties before. It was the fact that the demon's body almost thrummed with magical power that left a lump in Spike's throat. He cleared it with a rough sound._

"Right, then. I have it on good authority that you're an expert on dimensional travel and magic energy associated with said travel..."

"And you wish to do some dimensional travel?" Gnash asked him.

Spike frowned. The demon's tone was not genuine, and Spike knew it. The bloke knew damn well that was not why he was here, so why did he ask? _Keep your calm_, he told himself. "No thanks, mate. Not much for the magic myself."

"Most vampires aren't, but you're not like most vampires."

"Right. Look, can I tell you what I want before you make me do whatever I need to do to get my answer? Just to make sure you can actually do it. I'd hate to go through a lot of trouble for nothin'."

"Seems fair. What do you want? I assume magic is involved?"

"Yeh," Spike said as he pulled the lace underwear from his duster pocket. "This lady recently was... She was put through some serious mojo of the dimensional variety. It did something to her. Not sure what. This is something of hers from after her... From after she got..."

"Mojoed?" Gnash asked with an amused smirk. He reached for the garment.

Spike simply nodded as he reluctantly let the lacy fabric leave his fingers and slip into the slightly taloned ones of the demon. Almost immediately he felt something insinuating itself into his mind, and a moment later, he knew what it was. Spike felt the sensations of that night rush through him; the exhilaration of their fight, the shock and pleasure of the kiss that followed, and then... things started getting a bit personal. Spike growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the lustful look on the demon's face while he vicariously relived Spike's experience with Buffy. He tried to get the memories to stop and to get the demon out of his mind, but neither effort worked.

The demon didn't seem to notice anything his visitor was doing, focused as he was on the vampire's impassioned memories, but soon his look lost its lascivious taint to finally become slightly disgusted. Spike smirked a bit as he figured out what caused the change. The demon was perfectly content with the lust and the passion alright, but he didn't like the love that was also there. Nope, not one bit. Sensing his annoyance, Spike made it a point to focus on the love. He wasn't going to let this demon have his thrills at his or the Slayer's expense without paying for it.

Gnash broke the contact early, clearly perturbed. Gone was the previous pleasant tone to his voice, this harsh tone much more like his nature, Spike was sure. "You can't fool me, Vampire. I can tell there was much more passion and lust that night than..."

"You know nothing, mate," Spike interrupted him. "With her there's always something more. Always."

Gnash stared at him, his feral eyes showing contempt. "And that is why you are an inferior breed. Humanity taints you. And you even more so than other vampires I've met."

Spike lifted his chin a bit, and gestured around Gnash's home. "Like your poncy style says 'demon'. 'Sides I don't see it as a shortcoming. More like an endearing character trait. Variety is the spice of life and all that rot. Makes unlife interesting."

Gnash snorted. "In your case it only seems to make you miserable."

"Not always blood and peaches, I admit, but makes the good times that much better. Unlike some blokes, I like a challenge. Always did."

"Like searching for a happiness you'll never find?" Gnash questioned.

"I could say the same for you, mate. How often do you so-called 'real demon' types actually get what you want? I don't see hellfire in the streets or chaos everywhere. The world still spins."

"Touché, vampire. Now, enough of this! If you want to know whether I can tell you what's wrong with her and how to fix it, the answer is yes, I can, but for a price."

"There's always a bleeding price," Spike snorted.

"As you well know. What was your price for this night?" Gnash indicated Buffy's lace underwear with a flick of his hand before he tossed it back to Spike.

Spike caught the garment and returned it to the safety of his pocket. He lowered his eyebrows menacingly. "Don't know what you mean..."

"Oh, yes, you do, vampire. Things were never quite the same after that night, were they? And not in a good way." His voice had returned to the forced congeniality, perhaps because the words were more damaging that way.

"You don't know..."

"I see many things..."

"Look mate, I don't care what you bloody see! Just tell me what I have to do to get my sodding answer. That's all I want from the likes of you!"

"Fine. Here's what I want you to do..."

*********

Gnash had to suppress his smile as he explained to the vampire what he wanted in return for his answer. The raw emotion from Spike was wonderful. Made him easier to read. A little more prodding and he just might have the answer he wanted.

"So, this shouldn't be too hard," Gnash wrapped up his explanation. "I may be a demon, but I do have to breathe, so getting the amulet would be difficult even with my dimensional traveling abilities. You don't have that problem."

"Okay," Spike said dubiously. "But this amulet. It isn't going to destroy the world or anything, is it?"

"Why would you care?"

"Well first off, it would make getting my answer a moot point, being as I wouldn't be able to enjoy it."

"So confident you will be happy with your answer, huh? Think you can play the hero? Fix what's wrong with her, and she'll fall into your arms?"

The vampire's eyes flashed fire for a moment, but he buried the emotions quickly. "I don't do the hero bit. Must have me confused with another vampire."

Gnash felt something the moment the words came out of Spike's mouth. Not a hatred, no definitely not that. Something else. Something worse. Something that caused an aching in the vampire's psyche that could never be alleviated, a measure he felt he could never quite live up to, whether it be a standard of evil or a standard of good. And to the vampire, this other represented both. Gnash smiled. There it was. "Don't worry, I give you my word the amulet does not threaten your precious world."

He watched the vampire search his eyes for deceit, then nod in assent to take on the mission. Gnash began preparing for Spike's journey quickly. He had his own preparations to make. With his dimension-traveling abilities, he could go somewhere with his books and take all the time he needed to find just the right thing to take the vampire down. It would be easier to do now. He had found Spike's weakness.

*********

On the other side of town, Buffy staked another vampire. She didn't even bother brushing its dust from her clothing. _Is this all I am now? Simply a demon killer, an instrument just like the council wanted? She continued walking down the row of tombstones but no longer saw them, lost instead in thought.There was a time, in the beginning, when Buffy was afraid of her calling. It took time, but slaying finally grew into... well, a somewhat comfortable burden. Still later there had even been times when she had to reluctantly admit to enjoying it. Others still when she had **needed **it. When her powers had been taken away from her during the trial of her eighteenth birthday, she had panicked. An instinctual part of her had been lost that she had only then realized was as necessary to her as breath. Hunting, Dracula had called it, and he'd been right. When she'd first returned from the dead, it seemed the only normal thing in her life. Patrolling with Spike almost passed for a social activity - one where she didn't have to be all "I'm fine" Buffy. He understood. Killing is what they both did. That they now killed the same things had been an odd twist of fate, but... that was where the similarities between them used to end. Now Buffy sometimes wondered if she didn't feel as dead as Spike was._

For a while, Spike had been her refuge from that feeling, but he'd eventually wanted more, forcing her to deal with things she didn't want to face. So she had walked away and left him with nothing, or next to nothing. At one time he might have been happy with her wanting him, but as he changed, he wanted more. She couldn't give it. He was a vampire, soulless and without remorse, and he always would be. No matter how much he had changed or how much he said he loved her, he could never change that fact, and it was something she couldn't allow herself to get past. Damn him for trying to make her forget that, for taking advantage of her weakness. Stupid evil vampire. _And here I am again_, she thought, _doing the only thing that feels like mine. I should be out looking for those nerds._ But she didn't feel like it. She didn't feel like much of anything – once again. God, was her life so bad that the idea that she was just a crazy girl in an institution - with Mom and Dad just waiting for her to get well – actually something she thought was appealing for a moment there? She would have to change that. For Dawn's sake. For her friends' sakes. _Hell, even for my own sake_, Buffy thought, and finally felt as if she had made a decision that could make a difference.

Her head shot up, and as she engaged another vampire, Buffy grumbled, annoyed that he had rudely interrupted her train of thought. She tossed off the requisite insult. "Excuse me, some of us are thinking here. In words of more than one syllable, even. Maybe you should try it?"

Okay, so her heart wasn't in the witty repartee tonight. Not like the vampire would be around much longer to remember it. The fight took a few minutes, and by the time his dust joined that of the previous vampire on her clothes, Buffy had forgotten what it was she had been thinking about. She knew it had been important... After taking a moment to survey the graveyard, she pushed forward, looking for something else to slay.

TBC


	3. Deception

In His Shadow

Author's note: Please see opening chapter for disclaimers, etc.

Summary: Previously Spike decided he would help Buffy and was sent on a requisite quest to retrieve an amulet for a demon named Gnash. The demon went to work to find just the right reward to give the vampire in return.

**Chapter 2: Deception**

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered as he opened his eyes. Above him was a dark red sky, featureless and devoid of clouds, sun, moon, or stars. A barren, foreboding landscape followed when he turned his head to the side. "Didn't mean that literally," he grumbled as he slowly sat up.

His whole body protested the action, aching on every level. _Dimensional travel is no bloody picnic, he thought. Funny, how the demon managed to leave that part out in his detailed information and instructions. Well, at least Spike knew what to do._

Gnash had told him how to find the amulet, and that time would be different here. Spike would be in this dimension longer than he would be gone from his own, but his body would feel like it had "lived" for whatever time he was here. On reflection, he probably should have eaten more before he left. No oxygen most likely meant there was nothing worth eating.

He turned slowly, taking in the scenery. Not only did the landscape have few features of note, it also seemed to be two-toned, everything in various shades of red, punctuated only by areas of black. The visible aspects of the landscape were indistinct, almost hazy. _Strange, the vampire thought. He would have expected them to be jagged and sharp, the kind of obstacles that would cut flesh and impede progress. Instead they seemed barely there at all._

As for the temperature, the air registered as nothing - neither cold nor hot, but it still seemed oppressive. Spike felt as if gravity here was more than he was used to. When he stood and took a few steps, it seemed as if he were walking through water. _Yeah, a creature that needed to breathe oxygen would definitely be buggered here_. He started on his journey, thinking that his appreciation for the colors red and black would soon be greatly tested.

*********

Willow felt a little left out, something she had unfortunately been feeling a lot recently. It seemed like the people she lived with had been tiptoeing around her, afraid that if they shared any of their problems, it might upset her. _Like anything they could tell me would be worse than what I've been through recently_. What secrets could Buffy or Dawn possibly have that she couldn't handle? Okay, so she had found out about one of Dawn's secrets - her stealing - but that had been by accident and along with everyone else. Plus, she was sure there had to be more. _And Buffy?__ What could possibly be upsetting her so much that she wouldn't take the antidote the first time I gave it to her? Even try to harm us to keep from facing her life? Just a few short weeks ago, it seemed, her friend had told her that she was glad to be alive again. Had Buffy lied? And what about Xander? Why wasn't he confiding in her - his oldest, bestest buddy? Willow could help him through this problem with Anya if only he would let her. But he seemed uneasy around her too._

At least there was Tara. Things were finally going well between them again, so that had made all of the recent heartache at least mostly worth it.

Everything was still so much harder without magic. It had defined her for so long now, it seemed. Sure she had lived longer without it, but once someone grew, evolved, they weren't supposed to go back, right? Well, not in her case she guessed, but giving up magic had been necessary. And Tara was worth it. She would just have to learn again how to do things the hard way... Well, actually, she had been doing that. Finding the nerds' hideout, making Buffy's antidote, both had been done with old fashioned, painstaking research and legwork. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she had to learn to **like** doing things the old fashioned way again. Willow sighed. _That_, she supposed as she went back to her computer, _might be a little harder_.

But they were depending on her. What the Scooby gang had found at the nerds' hideout had hinted at more things to come, and this latest attack seemed to indicate that they weren't giving up any time soon. She had to keep looking, find out all that she could. The temptation to use magic was great. A simple locator spell would be so useful. If the nerds had a protection spell, she could simply use a stronger spell to counteract that... _and therein lies the danger, Willow thought. She ran her fingers across the keys of the laptop. No, here was the answer. Somewhere here, _and in this way lies no danger_. Except maybe a headache and tired eyes. _But I can handle that_, she thought, and as she watched Tara pad from the kitchen with her hands filled with snacks and her smiling face filled with love, the ex-witch knew she could more than handle it._

*********

Warren smiled as he looked at his latest acquisition. The orbs would give him all the power he needed to pull off his latest venture, and give him what he needed to defeat the Slayer. Getting rid of Jonathan by letting him get caught would just be an added bonus. He had to plan this carefully. The Slayer had come too close last time and had almost found them. Warren hoped she had enjoyed her little trip into madness. Maybe it had taught her who was the real power in this town, or maybe he'd have to give her another lesson.

Best to be free of Jonathan before that. His short comrade was growing increasingly unreliable when it came to such topics as ridding themselves of Buffy. The guy was definitely getting all Barclay on them, paranoid and twitchy and second-guessing everything little thing. Shorty just didn't get it. To have power there had to be sacrifices, difficult choices, and some people had to get stepped on in the process. Now was not the time to wimp out and get squeamish. They had come too far for that, and he wasn't going to let anyone stop them - not Jonathan, and not the Slayer. He looked around at the poor excuse for a hideout that they had been forced to inhabit. They were hiding in a dark basement like rats. _Oh, Buffy will pay for this_, Warren assured himself. She'd been a thorn in his side for far too long. _Time to get to work_. He looked over at his two partners in crime who were thoroughly engrossed in yet another round of Tomb Raider, and he sighed.

"Would you morons get over here? We have work to do." He shook his head and wondered how he had ever come to this. One answer came to him. _Buffy_.

*********

Gnash gazed over the now researched and arranged collection of volumes that had been his companions for the last three weeks and smiled. This was going to be fun. He would prove Spike wrong by getting something he, the "true demon" type, wanted: sweet and devastating revenge. Sure it wasn't chaos in the streets, but the subtle, yet devastating, artistry of his plan pleased him.

It had required more time than he expected to find just the right instrument for his vengeance. First he had learned as much as he needed to about Spike's rival, Angel, from his beginnings to his now resouled status. That had required a little side trip to steal a Watcher's diaries. He would have to return those volumes as soon as his business with Spike was concluded, or someone might become suspicious at their absence. Returning them would be trickier than taking them, he suspected, but the risk had been worth it. The information they contained had been integral to the second part of his research: finding just the right thing to take advantage of the blonde vampire and cause the most trouble at the same time.

The first part of the revenge wouldn't even require deception on his part. Spike would bring him the amulet, and all the vampire would get in return was the answer that nothing was really wrong with the Slayer. Just a little energy difference. Gnash couldn't wait to see his face.

Then would come the second part. Gnash had found something to play on the vampire's weakness, to exploit his deeply buried feelings of inadequacy concerning his vampire rival and grandsire. And he would offer it up in the guise of a gift. _She's only unhappy, Spike, devastated at being brought out of the peace she had after she died... Here's what you need to make her feel happy about living again. Spike would believe it, too. Of course he would think that she'd want Angel. And when he discovered exactly what he'd been given, well... Gnash smiled. There were a few potential outcomes, and all of them were deliciously awful._

He had considered most of the possibilities; from the chance that Spike would kill the Slayer in a jealous rage once he discovered what the "gift" was, to the small, but deadly flaw he included in the spell should the vampire actually use it for its intended purpose. The only avenues he couldn't cover, at least for now, were the prospects that Spike would use the spell on himself - though that would be a revenge in itself - or that the vampire would simply discard the "gift" once he learned what it was. Gnash would have to think of something should that last one occur.

The demon licked his lips. No, he would likely not have to think that far ahead yet. Spike would do something eventually. That was why the vampire had come to see him, after all, and from what he could gather during his brief trip through the vampire's brain, Spike was an impulsive being. There would be some chaotic outcome for certain. Just the way he liked it.

Gnash gathered up his books in preparation for returning to his own dimension. He wanted to be back to meet Spike on his reappearance, and his detour to get the Watcher's diaries had eaten a little into his time in his home dimension. Good thing he was able to teleport himself to England and back. Being a magically inclined demon had its advantages. And it was time to go reap some more rewards. Gnash chanted the powerful words and gathered the necessary magical energy around him. In a blinding flash of light he was on his way home.

*********

Spike was starving, and perhaps equally excruciating, he was bored. Sure, his body felt weak and tired, and finding an obstacle to his goal this late in the game would likely be devastating, but at least it would be something to break up the monotony. He'd long ago grown tired of filling the silence with his own voice, and that was saying something for how long he'd been at this. He'd seen the landmark he was supposed to reach after a day, but no matter how far he traveled since, the landmark only seemed a little closer: just enough to give him a small glimmer of hope to keep him going, but not nearly enough to give him the satisfaction of true progress.

Once again, he took out the small orb he was supposed to smash to return him to Gnash's lair, but if he did so without the amulet, he'd never get his answer. Well, he'd promised himself he'd do anything for her. Didn't want to break that promise now, did he? He was enough despicable things already, so he needed at least one illusion to hold on to. Spike put the orb back in his pocket and looked towards the hazy, blood red horizon. Blasted if that damn landmark didn't appear closer now. Growling loudly, the vampire continued on, tired of his own thoughts, but having nothing else to keep him company.

After three more days in that dimension's time, Spike reached the large monolithic stone and entered. He was beyond caring what he would find by that point, the fact that the amulet laid there, no obvious strings attached, giving him no satisfaction. Spike snatched it off the stone altar, vaguely wondering who would go through all this trouble just to put an amulet out in the middle of nowhere and half-expecting lightning to strike and turn him to dust in response. No answer and no dusty end came as a result, just a continuation of silence. He slid the amulet into his duster pocket with a trembling hand, then slipped the orb out of another pocket, and his eyes closed for just a moment. Wobbly legs brought him out of the monolith and back onto the red, red and more bloody red landscape. Spike worked his jaw a little then turned his face skyward and opened his eyes. More red.

"Get me the bloody hell out of here!" he yelled, and smashed the orb to the ground beneath him. He actually welcomed the blinding light and painful sensation that followed.

Spike didn't want to move. Not ever again, if necessary. The return trip hadn't really been worse than the arrival, but the lamentable state of his body made it seem so. He needed blood. Now. He vaguely thought that he heard a low chuckling. _Poncy__ bastard_.

"Well, it took you long enough," Gnash said, not even bothering to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Sorry," Spike replied in a dry rasp. "Couldn't help doing some sightseeing. So bloody much to see." He was proud of himself. Still managed the sarcasm despite his sorry shape.

Gnash chuckled again. "Thought you'd like it. Where's my amulet?"

"Where's some blood?"

"You expect me to have blood around?"

Spike growled. "Here, you git," he swore, then reached inside his duster slowly and extracted the amulet, letting it drop on the floor beside him. He felt something hit him on the chest, and his fingers closed on a bag of blood.

"Can't have you as a permanent fixture on my floor," Gnash explained.

Spike hardly heard him as he morphed and sunk his fangs into the bag, draining it quickly. _God, that was good_. He couldn't wait to down four more just like it.

"I'm impressed," Gnash said, though his tone was spurious. "I've sent other vampires on this same mission and you're the first who's come back with the amulet."

"Hoo-bloody-rah for me. What's my sodding answer?" Spike sat up, stifling a groan as he did so.

Gnash smiled at him, handing him another bag. "Impatient, aren't you?"

Spike just sunk his fangs into the plastic and gave Gnash a look that promised some impatient action if the demon didn't hurry this up.

The demon narrowed his eyes. "I would learn patience around me if I were you vampire." As if to illustrate his point, blue energy crackled off of his talons before dispersing.

Spike sighed and looked up at the large demon. God, how he hated magic. "Fine. I can wait. You don't happen to have a telly do you? Or some nice scotch? Maybe a pillow?" He managed to keep his tone and expression innocent, even around the fangs. _When all else fails, annoy the hell out of 'em._

Gnash snorted. The vampire was predictable. He smiled. "Still sure you want the answer?"

"Yes, you git. Why the hell would I go through all this?"

Gnash shrugged. "Fine. Here's your answer: nothing."

"What?" Spike's eyes narrowed and his lips curled.

"As I said. Nothing. There's nothing wrong with her. She's fine. Just a little change in her..." He waved his talons off-handedly. "Let's say metaphysical being. Just enough to confuse the chip in your brain. She's only unhappy, Spike. Devastated at being ripped from her peaceful afterlife." Gnash made sure to put on the requisite look of false compassion.

Spike growled. "You knew all along."

Gnash just looked at him with an expression that said, of course I knew. He waved his hand again. "So no need to answer the second half of your question. There's nothing to fix."

"No," Spike said. "Just 'cause there's nothing physically wrong, doesn't mean there's nothing wrong. You still owe me an answer of how to fix her. How to make her happy again."

The demon shook his head and rolled his black eyes. "So predictable." He took a piece of parchment off of a table behind him and dropped it unceremoniously on Spike's lap.

Spike wasn't sure if he was insulted or not. "What's this then?"

"I knew you were going to insist on something. Consider it a gift."

"Hello? What is it?"

"How to make her happy again. Isn't that what you wanted?"

His expression was smug, and for a moment Spike felt unease creep into his brain. He looked at the parchment, glanced over the Latin words. They seemed familiar, but the demon gave him no further time to figure out why, instead lifting him up by the shoulders.

"Now take it, and get out. Don't ask me for anything again." Gnash's tone made the rest of his threat obvious without words.

Spike was back on the street before he even realized he was on his feet. He gave the parchment one last look before smiling and shoving it in his duster pocket. A sudden shift in the air raised the hairs on the back of his neck, and he looked up warily in response. The building in front of him appeared drab and unassuming. A chill went through his body despite the warmth of the air, and he suddenly felt the urge to be far away. Forcing himself to walk away casually, Spike searched the streets for any sign of trouble. It would ruin everything if he couldn't get his precious prize home. Finally, he could do something right.

TBC

Note: I know this set up was a little slow, but I thought it necessary to give everyone's points of view and to set up what's to come. I hope you'll find it an interesting ride.

Next chapter – Spike finds out what the spell is for and has an interesting revelation. Willow discovers something disturbing about the nerds. Warren carries out his plan.


	4. Reality Returns

**In His Shadow**

Disclaimers, spoilers, etc. Please see opening chapter.

**Important author's notes**:** This fanfic takes place after "Normal Again" and is AU thereafter, but some of this story overlaps the original in terms of plot. I have kept some elements, changed some subtly, and altered others altogether to fit into my little universe. Joss and the writers deserve credit for any plot lines I have borrowed. If I confuse anyone or if you have any questions concerning the plot so far, don't hesitate to e-mail, and I'll be glad to answer any questions.**

The final scene of this chapter might be intense for some readers. Nothing that hasn't been seen on the show, but just a caution.

Thanks: A special thank you to all who have reviewed this story so far. This chapter is for you.

**Summary: Previously, Spike survived his journey to another dimension and retrieved an amulet for the demon Gnash. For his troubles, Gnash informed him that nothing was wrong with Buffy, but gave him a consolation gift. Willow contemplated her life without magic. Warren contemplated his life and decided it would be a lot better without a certain Slayer around.**

**Chapter 3: Reality Returns**

The look on Spike's face was one that Tara hadn't seen in quite a while: the type of genuine smile he'd always seemed to reserve for Dawn in days past. As she followed his progress into the shop, her lips curved up slightly in an unconscious response. "You seem happy tonight," she said, ducking a little to hide her face.

"I guess I am," Spike replied with a tilt of his head. His tone and expression conveyed surprise as if he'd just realized that fact for himself. "Doing research?" he asked her.

She nodded, and Spike returned her gesture. "Got a little to do myself."

Tara tried to hide her amazement as Spike glided over to the shelves of books and began to scan the titles. It didn't take him long to find the texts he was looking for, which gave her the feeling that the vampire knew a lot more about them than any of the Scoobies realized. With the volumes securely in hand, he took up a position opposite her at the table, and dropping the books casually in front of him, he slid into a chair.

For a while Spike said nothing, and Tara watched as he scanned various sections of the texts. One she could identify as a Latin to English dictionary. He alternated his attention between the dictionary, a parchment he'd pulled from his duster pocket, and a pad of paper where he'd scribbled numerous translations.

Surreptitiously, she tried to steal a glance at the document. There didn't seem to be anything intrinsically wrong with it, just simple paper and ink - no blood or anything unusual, but somehow it gave the witch a bad feeling, like an annoying vibration against her skin. Maybe bad wasn't the right word. 'Off'was maybe better. Frowning, Tara admonished herself for her paranoia. Spike distrusted magic, so it was unlikely that the parchment was a spell, although that could be the only reason she could think of to explain her reaction to it.

After a moment or two, Spike lifted his eyes to her. "Can you keep a secret?"

"...Yes," Tara said hesitantly.

"Really keep a secret. Even from Willow?"

"If there's a good reason," Tara assured him.

"Oh, there is. Red can't know about this." He indicated the document with a pointed finger, and comprehension animated Tara's eyes. She swallowed nervously before nodding firmly to let him know that she wouldn't tell anyone. As if he'd read her thoughts, Spike started to explain. "I think it's a spell of some sort." His eyes didn't leave the paper, as if was afraid his research would disappear if he lost the contact.

"What kind of spell?"

"Don't know. The bugger wouldn't tell me. Just said that it was what Buffy needed to make her happy."

He scrawled another couple of translated lines on the note pad, and the rhythm of the words wiped away any lingering doubts Tara had about the nature of the document. Her worry grew. "Spike, after what Willow did with the 'tabula rasa' spell..."

The vampire looked up, his expression showing that he understood Tara's fears. Both of them knew Buffy had been happier that night, but also that the cost of her happiness had been too high. "I'm not gonna do anything like that," he assured her. "That's why 'm trying to find out what it is. If it's something like that, I won't..." The words trailed off as his gaze returned to the paper, then to the Latin dictionary, and back again. As she watched, his features slowly twisted in disbelief. "This can't be..."

Tara started as a low growl began to emanate from Spike's throat. Her mouth opened slightly, before snapping shut with an audible click. Nervously she began worrying her bottom lip, whilst angling her body as far from the table as she could without moving her chair.

Spike looked back and forth between the texts and the parchment for a while longer, his movements increasingly agitated and his low growl continuous. She thought perhaps he wasn't even aware of it as more words were added furiously, almost illegibly, to the paper until finally the pencil lead broke.

Tara backed swiftly away as Spike began to make a sound somewhere between a growl and a wail that somehow communicated both anger and anguish. It was unlike any sound the witch had heard before and drowned out the crash of the chair that fell behind him and the slap of the books that smashed to the floor. Spike seemed to forget them as soon as they landed, instead pacing with teeth bared, his body restless in the confined space of the shop. Tara saw that the blue of his eyes were bled through with gold as he vented his rage.

"After all we've bloody been through!" His eyes scanned for something to vent his anger on, but nothing seemed to present itself as suitable. Instead he growled in frustration.

"S-spike, what is it?" Tara asked, her voice trembling.

He turned on her. "You want to know what? Here!" He shoved the translations at her with a violence that caused her to flinch, but she took it. Reading the words, the realization slowly came to her. Tara hadn't seen the original spell that Willow had worked a few years ago, but her lover had told her about it in detail. This spell seemed to have been designed specifically to counteract a dangerous flaw of that curse. The incantation would prevent the soul from becoming forfeit if the cursed vampire found true happiness.

She looked at Spike with sudden understanding. There was only one vampire with a soul, and that was Angel. If this parchment held the key to Buffy's happiness, then that inferred her happiness lay with him. When Tara finally looked in his eyes, their gazes locked. Spike's jaw worked, and his azure-blue eyes were liquid with emotion so powerful Tara swore she could feel it in her soul. She longed to say something, anything to lessen the blow, to refute the translation on the page, but no words seemed sufficient. Spike let out a pained growl through clenched teeth and closed his eyes briefly, and without another word, he turned on his heel and ran from the magic shop.

When the final echo of his footsteps on the basement stairs had faded, the silence that pervaded the shop was unnerving. Tara thought she could sense the change of emotion in the air, the happiness of earlier that evening having been washed away by rage and despair. The light from the table brought the words on the parchment into sharp focus, and somehow the sight of them angered her. She made a decision. She would translate the spell again herself. For something that was supposed to bring happiness, it surely didn't seem to be doing its job, and Tara's gut instincts about such matters were hardly ever wrong. Decided, she picked up the reference books Spike had been using and added a few more from the shelves for good measure. Taking a deep breath, Tara reseated herself at the table with the book spread out in front of her, trying to find as comfortable a position as possible. It was going to be a long night.

*********

Buffy looked again at the camera in her hand, curling her lip at it. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed that ugly gnome that had been hiding it. As it was, she'd only discovered it after she'd tripped over the thing on her way home from patrolling.

"I'm telling you, Buffy, he's the one that makes the most sense," Xander implored her.

Buffy looked at him skeptically. "Somehow I don't see Spike wasting effort on stealing a camera, Xander. Whiskey, cigarettes, a TV? Yeah, right with you there, but I mean, come on. Wouldn't it be easier for him to stand outside under his tree? Besides, doesn't he need a computer to see what came out of it?" She directed the last at Willow, who took the camera out of her hand and placed it by her laptop.

"This type of camera, yeah, he would. Along with some type of antenna feed... or some way to transmit the signal." Her tone reflected a sense of pride at actually being useful again.

"Don't seem to recall any computers or antennas over at his crypt any of the times I've been over there recently." Buffy caught the odd look Xander was giving her, before adding quickly, "...for patrol. I can't carry large weapons down the street. He's got some at his crypt."

Xander happily accepted this explanation, finding solace once again in his state of denial. "He does have some nice weapons."

"Yeah, not like he's going to let you borrow any of those again any time soon, Xander the Duster Slayer," Willow teased.

"That wasn't my fault."

"Oh, of course not," Willow agreed with a smile as she tapped some more keys on her laptop, trying to get the signal to connect. "You just had to show him that you could use a broadsword and ruin it for the rest of us." She seemed on the verge of laughter, her tone remaining mock serious only with some effort.

Buffy smiled at Willow's good-natured ribbing, glad to see her friend in such good spirits. She turned to Xander. "Somehow I think I missed an interesting story here while I was dead," she teased.

"So very not interesting, and Willow's not going to mention it again. Are you, Will?"

"Oh, no, of course not," The ex-witch answered him, in a tone that told Buffy she would hear the whole story later on, and then suddenly gasped. "Oh... my Goddess!" As Buffy and Xander came to her side, she continued in amazement, "There's more than one feed here. Look at all this..."

And Willow showed her friends just how much of their lives had been viewed by their new enemies.

********

Blissfully unaware of what was happening to their surveillance feeds, Warren, Andrew, and Jonathan carried out their plan to rob the carnival outside of Sunnydale. The orbs Warren had obtained made the task as easy as a game of Pac Man, and now once again they had some ready cash on hand.

Jonathan knew he should have objected when Warren insisted that he, as the leader, be the one to carry the bulk of the money. But even he hadn't suspected the extent of his friends' betrayal, until the sound of police sirens carried over the deserted carnival grounds, and by then, it was much too late. When Warren activated his jet pack and rocketed skyward, Jonathan was already panicking. His anxiety over being left to hold the bag only slightly eased when Andrew's attempt at a similar escape failed miserably. Even so, it wasn't enough to erase the hollow pit in his stomach, as the cuffs were locked shut around his wrists. Andrew whined at his side, insisting that Warren wouldn't leave them like this. Only he knew that their friend was not only capable, but also very willing to betray them. And without him and Andrew to hold him back, Jonathan wasn't sure exactly how far Warren might go.

*********

Denial would have been a nice diversion, Spike conceded, but he knew very well where that sort of thing could lead. His delusions that Buffy would love him if only she would admit she could, if she would let herself embrace the darkness, if she could see that he was the only one there for her - they were illusions he had tried in vain to hang on to, but had known as only false hope in the end. So knowing that truth, why was he so surprised by what the parchment had contained? The answer, that he shouldn't be, only fueled his rage.

Oh, he'd like to thank Gnash for this little gift all right. As soon as the thought entered through his head, he proceeded to distract himself with some very inventive ways to accomplish just that - including getting Tara to do some counteractive magic so he could really take his time. That mental exercise didn't last long, though, as Spike knew very well that there was nothing he could do against the powerful demon. An evil smile crossed his lips. That didn't mean there weren't other demons he could pulverize in Gnash's place. Shifting into game face, he searched the grimy tunnels for a victim on which to vent his anger.

Three vampires and one Blalock demon later, Spike was just a little worse for wear, and the adrenalin rush had played itself out. The rage had subsided to a dull growl, but his mood was still loathsome. Fortunately, he was almost back to his crypt, where the distraction of a nice bottle of whiskey lay in wait. He only hoped he had enough to do the job.

Slamming the door open with enough force to rival one of Buffy's entrances, Spike practically lunged at his bottle of whiskey. He took a long swallow before snorting at the label. Next time he'd have to nick a better brand. Falling into the familiar comfort of his tattered chair, he stared at the wall as myriad thoughts swirled in his head.

He'd always known that his had to end somehow, and now that the truth had finally bitten him on the arse, he might as well accept it and finish this already. Buffy would have her happiness, all right, but he'd be damned if he'd stay around and watch. Another shot of whiskey burned the back of his throat and dulled the pain just a little. Yeah, maybe he'd go get the sodding chip taken out and start over again somewhere. He could come back in a few years, refreshed from the vacation, and laugh at the sad mess Buffy's life would be after his poof of a grandsire had bored her to tears with all his brooding. Sniggering, Spike downed another shot. She'd be begging to take him back...

The mostly empty bottle bumped into the side of the stuffed chair as Spike let his body go limp. But who was he kidding? He should pretend he never saw that blasted spell. Instead he should just try harder to make her happy all by himself. But that was never going to happen unless he could make her see.

Those same thoughts kept gnawing at him until the alcohol and the fatigue from the previous days' trials finally allowed him to lose consciousness.

_He came in the door with a swirl of leather, throwing the duster over the banister as he climbed the stairs. He knew she was there. Her scent told him that, even from here. Now all he had to do was get her to listen to him, make her understand._

_"Buffy, we have to talk."_

_"There's nothing to talk about, Spike. Now, get out of here. I just want to..."_

_"But I've changed. I have. This is real, Buffy. Can't you see that?"_

_She nodded vaguely. "I know it is. I know how you feel, Spike. But it's not enough."_

_"What more can you bloody want from me? I've given you all that I can..."_

_"Yes, and I never should have..." __She shook her head. "You are what you are, and I should have remembered that."_

_With frightening swiftness, he grabbed her arms and made her look at him. _"Look at me, Buffy. Look in my eyes and tell me there's not love there."__

_She only looked for a moment then turned her head. _"Don't. Don't make this harder. I can't..."__

_"Yes you can," he growled and smashed his lips into hers._

_"Spike, stop it."_

_She was struggling now, but he wasn't letting her go. He couldn't let her go. _"Just let yourself admit it Buffy. I know it's there. I know you love me..."__

_He smashed his lips to hers again, and suddenly he just wanted her body against his again. He knew she'd want him to, if only he showed her that it was okay. That she could let go. Why was she fighting this so hard? They'd done this before. He wasn't sure how they'd ended up on the floor or how she'd gotten under him, but now that she was there, all he had to do was... there, her hands above her head, force her legs apart..._

Spike woke with a gasp. "Oh, God, no. Please, no." They were the same words he'd said after another dream, long ago; and like that dream, this was more intense, more real than his usual nighttime diversions, and it was telling him something. But, that couldn't be. He'd never... but as he looked at the evidence hard between his legs, and felt the desperation in his heart, he knew that he could - that he was capable. He slouched back down into his chair, taking heavy, unneeded breaths.

"What am I going to do?" he whispered to himself. "If I ever hurt her that way, I'd..." He buried his face in his hands and wondered how everything had gone so wrong. 

TBC

Coming next: Tara discovers something about the spell. Spike decides what he will do.


	5. Decisions

In His Shadow 

Sorry for the delay guys. I'll try not to let it happen again. Hopefully, the wait will be worth it.

Disclaimers, spoilers, etc: Please see opening chapter.

Thanks: A huge thanks again to my wonderful beta readers, Canela and Treacle Antlers. Any mistakes belong to me, not them.

Summary: Previously, Spike discovered what it was that Gnash gave him. Willow and Buffy discovered that the nerds were spying on them. Warren succeeded with his plan to rob the carnival and frame Jonathan. Spike had a revealing dream that disturbed him.

**Chapter 4: Decisions**

The wooden crypt door felt cool beneath Tara's tentative touch, a consequence of the late afternoon hour and a cloudy sky. As barriers went, it appeared ordinary enough, but inside lay something she wasn't sure she could face just yet. She'd had enough emotional upheaval in the last few months to last her a lifetime, and this wouldn't be easy, but the situation couldn't be avoided any longer. Spike had to know what she'd found.

Rubbing at her bloodshot eyes and sighing, she tried to muster up some courage in her tired body. The memory of the vampire's expression as he had left the shop did nothing to ease her feelings of apprehension, and neither did the fact that the night before, she'd only managed to snatch about a half hour of sleep. Thinking about it, Tara supposed that both she and the grimoire she had unwittingly drooled on during her nap would've been better off if she'd skipped the nap entirely.

Raking a hand through her disheveled hair, Tara took a deep breath and knocked. She jumped when the door flew open only a second later to reveal Spike already in vamp face and brandishing a nasty-looking knife.

"Oh, it's you," he said. His vampire features melted back to human, and he stepped aside to let her enter. "What the hell you knocking for anyway? No one else does." Spike looked thoughtful before amending his statement. "'Cept Clem, but his knock sounds nothin' like yours."

"W-who wouldn't knock? It's only polite."

Spike snorted. "Well, first off, demons generally aren't polite. And the others, well they don't feel the need to be. Harris and Buffy'd never consider it, and Nibblet, well, she and I are maybe too familiar to bother. Though can't say she's visited me much as of late. Probably for the best as Big Sis wouldn't approve and most likely would take it out on my hide."

He gestured to his chair, offering it to her, before seating himself on the stone sarcophagus.

Tara noted that the vampire seemed fairly coherent and calm now, but the slight odor of alcohol and the hint of redness around the eyes suggested recent inebriation, lack of sleep, or both. A fresh bruise marked his jaw, likely evidence of venting his rage on the demon population. In short, he looked as bad as she felt.

Watching him look her over, Tara guessed he was making similar observations about her.

"You look a bit knackered, Glinda. You okay?"

Tara decided she might as well dive in before she lost her nerve. "A-actually no, Spike. I didn't sleep much, a-and I have something to tell you."

She saw panic flash in his eyes and his body stiffened. "What now, something happen to Buffy, or the Bit?"

"No. No," Tara hurriedly assured him. "It's just - I brought this."

She moved the book bag hanging on her shoulder to her lap and started rummaging in it. The action provided a good excuse to avert her eyes, and her hair falling in front of her face added extra camouflage. After a little digging, she removed a pad of paper and the parchment containing Spike's spell. Her hands fumbled a little.

"Not going to hurt you, luv," Spike told her. "Couldn't even if I wanted to. Which I don't." As if he thought that might suggest he was anything less than evil, he added, "'Cos, I maybe need your help." He sniffed to put the proper emphasis on it.

Tara tried not to smile. Spike was so uncomfortable with appearing even a little nice that his attempts to overcompensate were often obvious. She took a breath and hurried on. "About that. Um, Spike, where did you get this spell?" She indicated the parchment by holding it up.

"A demon bloke gave it to me after I did him a favor. Supposedly some expert on dimensional travel. I went to see him to find out what was wrong with Buffy, since her resurrection." The last word came out slowly and deliberately.

"Oh, nothing. I mean, it was just a small change in her cellular make-up," she said.

"Yeah. Found that out after I went through almost two weeks of hell to get the sodding answer. Would'a been nice if someone kept me in the loop about these things."

"I don't think Buffy wanted anyone to know. They might have asked how she found out she was different, and then …"

Spike's eyes narrowed. "What did she tell you?"

Tara looked down. "She t-told me …"

"That I hit her and the chip didn't go off," he finished impatiently. "Likely she didn't tell you why I hit her." He fixed a gaze on her. "She told you the rest, too, didn't she?"

Tara nodded softly. "About you and her."

Spike snorted. "Should've figured as much after the party." He readjusted himself on the sarcophagus, trying to adopt a more casual position. "Yeah, well, that's over now. Doesn't mean I don't want to see her happy, though. So I need your help." He pointed to the spell. "I want you to help me do this for her."

"I can't," Tara said.

"Why not? I mean, sure, you're not Red, but I know you're a powerful witch in your own right. More so than I think you let on, and this will be a good thing."

"T-that's just it," she interrupted him. "It looks like a good thing, but it's... flawed."

"Flawed?" Spike's brows knitted, his upper lip curling in confusion as Tara nodded.

"See here." Taking the pad of paper, she pointed to a translated section before passing it to him. "Where it talks about the soul and the demon being joined. It leaves room open for the demon to take over. It could be just a temporary thing, but I can't be sure, and even if it was temporary..."

Spike frowned at her hesitation. "A little Angelus is a very bad thing," he finished for her, his tone showing that he understood the danger. "Well, can't we fix it? I mean, revise the spell a little?" He handed the pad back to her.

"I thought of that, but I don't think it's possible. I think it's a necessary part of keeping the soul and the demon together in the same body."

"Well, if it's only temporary, we could always, I dunno, restrain him until it passes," Spike suggested.

"That's the thing. I can't be sure that it's only temporary. Even if his soul were to have control most of the time, this spell lets the demon 'out of the cage' so to speak. In a moment of weakness…"

"It could take over."

Her eyes wide, Tara nodded.

Spike exhaled bitterly. "I bet Gnash knew this all along. Bloody bastard." A frown creased his brow for a moment, and then his expression became resolute. "Well, I'm not giving up on this, there's got to be a way to…" He put up a hand. "Give us a minute to think, will you, love?"

Tara waited a moment, watching Spike's anxious expression as he tried work a way around the problem. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

"W-we can't just get rid of Angelus," she finally said.

He nodded. "Right, cuz then Angel's body would just be dead without a demon to keep it undead, but..." Spike's eyes suddenly grew large, and his lips parted slightly. "Does it have to be Angelus?"

"I - I don't understand."

"The demon, the demon inside. Does it have to be Angelus?"

Tara frowned, trying to understand where he was going with this. "I - I suppose another vampire could animate him, but any demon would likely be a bad thing."

Leaning towards her, Spike smiled like someone who'd come up with the most brilliant idea of his life. "Not just any demon, love. Me."

*********

"Buffy! Buffy come look at this!" Dawn called out from the living room.

Walking in from the dining room where she and Willow had spent all afternoon trying to make sense of the video feeds, Buffy looked at the TV. Her sister was pointing to the local news on the screen.

"What is it?"

The reporter was broadcasting from the carnival near Sunnydale, the camera capturing her perfect smile and hair against the backdrop of some heavy-duty destruction.

"That doesn't look normal," Dawn observed.

"No, it doesn't." Both their mouths dropped opened as the screen showed pictures of two of the captured suspects. "Oh, my."

"Isn't that…"

"Yes," Buffy answered before Dawn even finished. "But noWarren. They didn't get Warren, and if that jerk, what's-his-name, called up some demon to help them pull this off, it could still be around.  And without anyone to control it…"

"But, I mean, wouldn't Warren get rid of it?" Dawn asked, obviously concerned at a demon on the loose that could cause so much destruction.

"I wouldn't trust Warren to care. He'd be thrilled to see me have to chase this thing all over town. Remember the last time?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Dawn said.

Turning to Willow, who had joined them for the last part of the broadcast, Buffy ran a hand distractedly through her hair. "I have to get down to the police station and find out what they called up. And I so have to kick their asses."

"Not sure the police will let ya, but you can always threaten. You're good at that. Just be careful, Buffy," Willow said, "in case that demon's around. And while you're gone, I'll try a little surveillance to see if I can come up with anything else helpful."

Buffy shook her head. "You better hold off on that. Now that Warren's the only one left, he'll probably be extra jumpy. He might've even left town by now. I'll see if the rest of the trio is ready to spill the beans on what his plans might be. And you," she said to Dawn, "listen to Willow and stay out of trouble. If there's a demon loose, I don't want you finding it."

"Like I'd go looking for…" Dawn began, but stopped when she saw her sister giving her the patented Look of Deadly Seriousness that allowed no argument.

"Hey, and they won't know that I'm magic free," Willow said with a mischievous smile. "You can always threaten that I'd turn them into toads."

Grabbing a light jacket, Buffy gave Willow an amused glance. "Sometimes I wonder about you, Will."

Her friend grinned. "It's good to keep them guessing."

"Hmm," Buffy said good-naturedly, "I'm just glad you're on our side," and closing the door, she headed downtown to bully some nerds.

*********

The witch was looking at him as if he'd lost his mind. Her eyes were wide and her mouth slack-jawed in disbelief. Maybe I am crazy, Spike thought. But somehow it seemed the perfect solution to all his problems.

The entire time he'd been talking to Tara, his dream of earlier that day had lurked at the corners of his thoughts. Even before she'd told him of the problem with the spell, he'd been wondering what he was going to do. He'd even considered having Tara, or in a pinch, Gnash, send him to another dimension, just to make sure there was no way he could ever harm Buffy. Staying away voluntarily wasn't an option; he'd return like a moth to a flame. But this was better. Not only would Buffy be safe from him with Angel's soul to keep him in check, he'd still be able to be with her, still be able to love her. And he'd have somewhere to belong.

Tara's voice brought him back to the present situation. "S-spike that's crazy. I mean, even if we can find a way to do it, you realize what would happen to you, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'd be inside Angel's head, I guess."

"In the background," she told him solemnly. "And you'll likely suffer terrible guilt, Spike. You can't understand what that will mean right now, but…"

"It'll be bloody awful," he agreed. "But it can't be worse than my original idea."

Tara smiled wryly. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Was gonna have you send me away," he explained. "To a different dimension."

"Why would you? I mean, what could be so bad that…"

Spike figured she must have seen his face fall, to make her stop so abruptly. His gaze dropped to his lap. "I'm afraid I'll hurt her," he admitted, and try as he might, he couldn't keep his voice from breaking a little.

Tara nodded slowly, and Spike was both relieved and hurt that she accepted his explanation so readily, but he expected it. Tara, of all people, would know what he was, and what he was capable of. She had this instinct he had seen in few others. Despite all that, she'd never been unkind to him.

"You've tried," she told him, her tone softening the blow. "You've done a lot of good, Spike, and I know you love her. And the fact that you are even considering this now, it says so much."

Spike smiled at her sadly. "But there's only so much I can do. I'm still a vampire. No matter how much I might try to deny it."

Tara smiled back, and as she looked into his eyes, Spike knew she was reading him. For a moment, he thought to resist, but he didn't avert his gaze from her warm eyes. He needed her, and he needed her trust.

She frowned curiously. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

Nodding, he replied, "Yes."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. After I get some sleep," she added when he straightened and looked hopefully at her.

"You really do look awful, love," he told her teasingly.

"Thanks, and do you want to be the pot or the kettle?" she joked back.

"Kettle, thanks, being British and all." He cleared his throat. "Um, you want to sleep here, instead of having to go? 'Cept I don't have a bed anymore. It had an unfortunate accident."

"Accident?"

"Grenades. Beds aren't explosion-proof. Go figure."

"Most furniture isn't. Though, in Sunnydale, you'd think someone would have thought to make some."

"That'd mean they'd have to actually have a clue, love. Denial's too nice a place. I know from personal experience."

"I really will try to do this for you, Spike." And the look she gave him was one of genuine concern.

Spike nodded, letting his gratitude show in his face rather than with words. He knew that would mean more to her anyway. She'd been hurt enough by words to distrust them by now.

"And thanks for the offer to stay, but I'll need more books anyway."

"And you'll sleep better at home. I know I do."

He hopped off the sarcophagus and crossed to the door. As he opened it, he looked at her. "You'll let me know, right? As soon as you find something?" He didn't say "if." He had every confidence that she would.

"As soon as I find something," she assured him.

Spike watched her as she walked into the waning sunlight. He'd always liked the woman - as much as he could like someone who wasn't Buffy or Dawn, anyway - but he'd never had more affection for the witch than he did at this moment. His gaze following her, Spike waited until she disappeared into the growing shadows, and then he closed the door.

TBC soon

As always, don't be afraid to e-mail with questions or concerns. I'll answer, I promise.


	6. Perfect

In His Shadow 

Disclaimers, spoilers, etc: Please see opening chapter.

Summary: Previously, Tara visited Spike to warn him about a problem with the spell. Spike came up with a solution. Meanwhile, Buffy learned about the trio's robbery of the carnival.

**Chapter 5: Perfect**

The red digital display on her bedside clock read 8:28. Some part of Tara's mind enjoyed the symmetry of that. The rest was troubled. Pulling the covers aside in one swift motion, she resigned herself to getting no more sleep this evening. She padded into the bathroom, squinting when she turned on the light. As she stared at her reflection, she noticed that the crease between her brows didn't lessen after her eyes had adjusted to the harsh glare. Her frown furthered the effect.

Four hours of sleep may not have been enough for her tired body, but it did wonders for her sense of reason. Had she really agreed to help Spike? Maybe her lack of sleep and the fact that he looked so hurt and lost had swayed her, but now that she'd slept on it, she had so many misgivings. This spell could be dangerous on so many levels. What if she never found a way to help him defeat Angelus and take his place? What if Angel didn't want this to happen? What if something went really wrong and they called up hell on earth? Of course, there was still a chance she wouldn't find anything at all, in which case she'd be able to bow out gracefully. Or maybe she could still talk him out of it.

Sighing, she turned on the water in the shower and shed her nightshirt. She would have to go back to Spike's crypt and speak with him. But first she would do as she had promised and look for a spell. Somehow, she felt this visit to see Spike might be even harder than the last. The anger and disappointment he was sure to feel would be difficult to watch. Stepping into the shower, Tara wrapped her arms around her body, and despite the warmth of the spray, she shivered.

*********

Spike watched Willow leave the house on Revello Drive, her voice reminding Dawn to be careful or Buffy would kill them both when she returned.

"I'll be back in an hour or so," she called as she walked down the driveway. A book bag hung over her shoulder, and Spike decided she must be going somewhere to research or going to class.

He smiled. Perfect. He felt much better after a few hours of sleep - mercifully, of the dreamless variety - and now he would hopefully have a chance to spend some time with his Nibblet without interruptions. He headed quietly for the back door.

Dawn heard Spike come through the kitchen door in his usual manner just as she was pouring herself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. She stifled a squeak, more unnerved by getting caught with the less-than-grown-up cereal than by the vampire's entrance.

"Hey, Spike. What'cha doing here?"

"Saving you from a culinary disaster, looks like. You're not planning on that for dinner, are you?"

"Oh, no. Already had dinner. Yup. This is just dessert."

Her stomach chose that moment to growl, and Spike raised an eyebrow at her in response. "Unless my vampire hearing's off, that doesn't exactly sound like a full stomach. Here, let me see what we've got."

"You don't have to..." Dawn began, but she trailed off, fascinated, as he sauntered over to the cabinets and started opening them at random. After finding the stash of canned goods, he started digging, finally pulling out a red-and-white-labeled can like it was a prize.

"Brilliant," he proclaimed, holding the can up for her inspection.

"Tomato soup?"

"Well, yeah," he said, his expression and tone insinuating "duh," before he placed it on the kitchen island. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a gallon of milk. "Cream of tomato soup. Oh, and look!" A package of cheese slices plopped on the counter next to the milk, followed soon by a stick of margarine and a loaf of bread.

Crossing her arms and smirking in amusement, Dawn watched Spike glide around the kitchen, pulling out a pot, a pan, a spatula, and then yet another package from the cupboard.

"And oyster crackers. These are almost as good as Weetabix. Well, actually better for tomato soup."

"Do all vampires get this excited about food?" she asked him.

"Nah, most don't have my good taste. But how could anyone not love tomato soup and grilled cheese? That would be, well, uncivilized." He smirked at her as he added a dab of margarine to the pan and put it on the stove.

Grudgingly, Dawn did have to admit it sounded a whole lot better than cold Cocoa Puffs. And a few moments later, as the smell of grilled bread, melting cheese, and tomato soup started to fill the kitchen, she was nearly drooling in anticipation. As a distraction, she busied herself with setting the island with bowls, plates, and spoons.

She reached for two glasses. "And what, O culinary genius, do we drink with this masterpiece?"

Spike tilted his head, thinking. "Well, either milk or water, I suppose, would be best. Don't want it to clash with the taste of the soup and sandwich, but I suppose root beer would be okay, too."

"Root beer?" Dawn almost laughed, but managed to hide her amusement. It might not have mattered too much anyway, because the vampire seemed to be lost in fond memory.

"'Course, it's best if it's a root beer float. With lots of ice cream, so it sticks out the top like a little cloud. Then you can eat it some before mixing it up all nice and frothy-like and get the foam on your face."

She did start laughing then, and Spike snapped out of his reverie and glared at her as if his manhood had been questioned.

"Hey, now! Nothing wrong with a root beer float." Sighing irritably, he pointed at her tumbler. "Just pick out a bloody beverage, Bit, and park yourself. It's almost done." He quickly busied himself with his cooking, and Dawn was sure that if vampires could blush, he would have been pink.

Filling her glass with milk, she sat down as Spike placed her grilled cheese on the plate and poured the soup in her bowl. He did the same for himself before finding a beer in the fridge and casually popping the cap with his thumb. He put it next to his dinner with a decisive bang, as if to prove it was a manly drink. A huge grin formed on Dawn's face as she watched him.

"I'm sure there's some root beer…"

"Eat!" Spike told her, attempting to maintain a stern face. He grabbed a huge handful of crackers and dropped them into his bowl of soup, and then did the same for hers.

Dawn's first bite of grilled bread and melted cheese elicited a contented moan. She looked at Spike watching her intently.

"It's perfect."

It is perfect, Spike thought. This whole bloody thing. God, I'm gonna miss her. Gazing across the counter into those big blue eyes, he knew for certain that this was why he came here, to have one more night with his Dawn.

"You know what would make it even more perfect?" Dawn's words were muffled by her mouthful of crackers and soup; and, raising an eyebrow at her, Spike waited for her to continue. She chewed and swallowed before saying, "If you'd tell me one of your stories."

Spike frowned. "Not sure Sis would approve, Bit."

"Oh, come on. There's got to be one you can tell me. Something in a PG-13?"

Spike thought for a moment, and suddenly it came to him. It was the perfect story for the perfect night. Fate must be giving this to him, so he would take it.

"Did I ever tell you 'bout the time I helped save your sis from the Lei-ach Demons?"

Dawn shook her head, face full of interest. "No. When was this?"

"Well, you remember that time Tara's family came to town? Hadn't even been a few weeks since my last attempt to get this sodding chip out."

"Yeah, I remember. You came in after it was all over, like a big no help at all."

"Wrong," Spike said, emphasizing the point with a motion of his spoon at her. "I was very helpful. Which is what I'm gonna tell you about."

"Did you love Buffy yet?"

Despite himself, Spike flinched. "Now, are you gonna let me tell my part of it or what?"

"Okay," she said, but then her eyes glittered with mischief, and little warning bells went off in Spike's brain. "But first I wanna hear a story from the old days." Her eyes gleamed with an anticipation Spike should've found disturbing, but instead made him almost proud. "You know, like the one with the girl in the coal bin."

Spike put on what he hoped was a reproving look. "Now you know Buffy'd skewer me with the nearest wooden object if she caught me telling you something like that."

A sly look came over Dawn's face. "Scared?"

He sniffed. Little minx. "'course not. Just, we should respect Big Sis' wishes is all."

"Please, please, please," Dawn said, giving her patented, innocent Puppy Dog Eyes.

Spike melted like the cheese in his sandwich. Besides, Buffy wouldn't be back anytime soon. Despite himself, he smiled with the satisfaction that came from doing something he knew he shouldn't do but was reasonably sure he could get away with. "Well, there was this one time in London. Angelus wanted to go see a play…"

*********

"Warren's not going to leave us here. I just know it," Andrew insisted for about the tenth time.

Gazing at his friend's earnest face, Jonathan gave up on reasoning with him anymore. If it hadn't worked the first nine times... Well, at least Andrew has hope, Jonathan mused, as he took stock of the small, bleak cell. Rubbing the back of his aching neck, he felt as if he would die of boredom, or anxiety, or maybe a combination of the two. Is that even possible?

He sighed. "Well, I wish someone would come for us, but I'm not…"

A sound from the window startled him, and Andrew turned wide eyes his way, words tumbling out of his mouth in a nervous rush. "You dorkhead, you're not supposed to say stuff like that. Now something is coming for us, I just know it. It's like that episode of…"

With a loud crunch, the window frame broke in the center, the glass creating a spider web pattern of cracks. The guards had to have heard that, right? Jonathan thought. Jumping up, he grabbed the bars and tried to look towards the door at the end of the hallway where the station's main desk lay, but no one seemed to be coming. Another crunch and a glimpse of what looked like a heavy object covered with material bashing into the window sent Andrew grabbing for his arm, flinching as the glass fragments started to crumble away. Frightened as he was for the moment, Jonathan didn't mind Andrew's proximity, but maybe he'd complain later. Right now he was too busy being scared out of his wits. Reaching through the now cleared window pane, a pair of hands gripped the bars and bent them. The hands looked human enough, but...

"Vampire?" Andrew almost squeaked.

"Don't be an idiot. Why would a vampire go to all this trouble?" Jonathan asked.

"If it was as pissed off as I was it might," said a familiar voice.

Squeezing herself through the opening she'd created in the bars, Buffy dropped gracefully to the floor of the cell. Rubbing her chafed hands on the seat of her slacks, she stepped towards them, her blazing eyes locked with his.

Why is she looking at me? Jonathan thought.

"It's the Slayer," Andrew said quite unnecessarily and huddled closer to him.

In response, Buffy raised her eyebrows in an incredulous look. "Could you two be any more pathetic?"

Disengaging himself from Andrew's grasp, Jonathan tried to regain some semblance of dignity. "What do you want, Buffy?" He managed to say it without his voice faltering, but his moment of confidence was fleeting as she moved closer, the menace in her face increasing.

Her hands fisted at her sides. "What did you call up last night? What monster did you summon just so you could grab some unearned cash?" She directed the last to Andrew, and he quailed in fear.

"N-nothing. What monster?" Andrew asked.

"I saw the havoc you left behind at the carnival. They had footage on the news. So don't try to deny…'

Jonathan interrupted her quickly. "That was no monster. It was Warren."

Hissing at him, Andrew drew back his fist and hit his arm hard. "Dude, that's so not cool! You shouldn't have told her that. Now she'll go after him."

Jonathan tried to pull himself up straight and look menacing but conceded that the effect was likely ruined by his extreme lack of height. "Yeah, I should've. I should've told her a long time ago. I know you don't believe this right now, but Warren has gone too far. He has to be stopped." Turning to Buffy, he met her scathing gaze with as much confidence as he could muster. "But it might not be that easy. He has these orbs we got that make him super strong. That's how he was able to tear things up."

Buffy crossed her arms and frowned. "I'm sure I can handle it."

"No way. He'll beat you to a pulp," Andrew said, unable to keep the hint of pride from his voice.

Throwing him a disgusted look, Jonathan turned back to Buffy. "The orbs will be somewhere on him. You'll have to find them and smash them. That'll make him normal again." He watched Buffy studying him and watched her expression soften. Somehow he knew it was all he would get in way of thanks.

She nodded slightly. "You both better hope I get to him before he hurts someone else," she warned, before spinning and heading swiftly for the window.

"That's it. That's all we get?" Andrew asked.

Turning back to them, Buffy shot Andrew a questioning look. "What? You want me to pound you, too? Come a little closer." She smiled with a cold amusement that made Jonathan a little queasy.

"No, that's…" Andrew didn't bother to finish. Buffy had already turned away and leaped for the window. Before they even had time to think of a proper retort, she was gone.

*********

"And then I punch her in the nose," Spike said, punctuating it with a fist motion.

"Well, that was mean," Dawn remarked around a mouthful of grilled cheese crust.

"Hey now, it hurt me, too. And anyway, it proved she wasn't part demon, didn't it? 'Sides, I'd already saved Buffy from the Lei-ach Demon," he explained as if that had filled his quota of good for that day and then some. Sitting back on his stool, he looked quite proud of himself.

"By cracking open the demon's skull with that big knife and splattering his blood and brains all over the training room wall?" Dawn asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "And hi, Tara!" she added enthusiastically, waving at her.

Her hand still on the doorknob, Tara smiled back and had to bite her lip as Spike turned to see her standing on the threshold. His expression was one of almost comic horror.

"I didn't bloody tell her that. I swear!"

He turned back to Dawn to give her what Tara supposed was a scathing look, but the younger Summers dismissed it immediately as the empty threat it was, being long since immune to Spike's threatening tirades. Tara had always been impressed with Dawn's ability to stand up to the vampire, no matter how elaborate he made his intimidation.

"I believe you," she assured him. Glancing at the bowls and plates on the island, her expression changed to one of chagrin. "O-oh. Didn't mean to interrupt your dinner. I was just…"

"I think we're done," Spike told her. "Or I could make some more if you're hungry?"

"No, thanks. I ate." She smiled shyly. "Though I have to say, yours smells better."

"Cream of tomato soup and grilled cheese," Dawn announced as if it were the best meal imaginable, "It was great, Tara. Although apparently it might've been even better with a root bee… Ah! No, Spike, stop!"

Smiling indulgently, Tara watched as the vampire jumped off his stool and chased a squealing Dawn into the living room where she ran behind the couch to grab a pillow like a shield.

His smirk was one of exaggerated menace and perhaps a little bit of pride that Tara didn't want to think about. "Can it, Bit, or I'm telling Buffy 'bout the time you and your little friend Terry snuck into the graveyard, and …"

Dawn's eyes widened with the familiar horror of a teenager threatened with mortification. "Okay, okay, Spike. I won't say it. I promise."

Spike nodded in satisfaction. "You better not, or else -" Tara supposed he sensed her moving into the living room, because he stopped, and turned to meet her eyes sheepishly. "Um, right. You looking for Red? She'll be back soon, I suppose."

"Actually, I just stopped by to pick up some books I left here. Then I'm on my way to the shop to research."

"Right. Um, you need my help?"

Dawn perked up immediately, practically bouncing on the couch arm she had commandeered as a chair. "Ooh, can I help? Please, please, please," she begged. Turning to look at her, Tara caught the Puppy Dog Eyes full force and shot a look at Spike.

His eyes flickered in response. "Well, you might've, but I think it's a school night. 'Sides, I did the cooking. That means you get the dishes," he told her.

"What? Wait, no fair."

"I don't know. Sounds fair to me." Tara cocked her head, and Dawn's disappointment turned to resigned irritation.

She glared at the vampire. "Oh, I'm so gonna get you back for this."

"Terry and the graveyard," he reminded her with smug glee. "Besides, I think I owe you one for that little stunt you pulled in there earlier." He jerked a thumb towards the kitchen and raised his eyebrows at her.

The teen smirked. "It was so worth it. You should've seen the look on your face when you saw Tara there." Giggling, she avoided Spike's grasp as she headed for the kitchen to clean up.

"And you behave until Willow gets back. And no sneaking out," Spike called into the kitchen.

"As if I'd have the time," Dawn called back. "You must be the messiest cook on Earth. How many dishes does it take to make soup and sandwiches?"

Listening to the exchange, Tara gathered the books she needed from the dining room and stuffed them into her book bag. She came back in time for Spike to throw her a knowing look.

"Enough to keep her busy and out of trouble." Then his expression became more serious. "You sure you don't mind if I come with you? Or would you rather research alone?"

"Y-you can come," she told him. "This does concern you." And maybe you can see why we can't do this after all, she thought.

Spike nodded once. He glanced towards the kitchen with a sad smile, and Tara knew what he was probably thinking. If there were nothing else in this world he would miss if the "change" took place, it would be Dawn.

Turning, he opened the door for her, and with a swirl of his leather duster, they stepped out into the dark night.

TBC


	7. Concessions

**Previously: Tara had second thoughts about helping Spike with his plan. Spike made dinner for Dawn. Buffy visited Jonathan and Andrew in jail and learned about Warren's stolen power.**

**Chapter 6: Concessions**

Spike shifted in the passenger seat, trying to keep his eyes on the road ahead and wishing that he was the one driving right now. It would at least have given him something else to focus on besides the nervous woman beside him, and Tara would have been hard for any vampire to ignore. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and a small but discernable amount of perspiration gathered on her forehead. Even the noisy thrum of the engine couldn't mask the quickening beat of her heart or the forced control of her breathing. Suppressing a growl of frustration, Spike silently fumed. I told the girl I wouldn't hurt her, so what is she so damned jumpy for?

Thankfully and before too long, the familiar storefront of the Magic Box was glowing in the headlights. Spike was out of the door and stalking across the parking lot before the car had even come to a full stop. By the time Tara reached him, Spike was glowering impatiently by the back entrance to the shop. She unlocked the door with unsteady hands, but before she could enter, he stepped to the threshold and asked, "Okay, now, what's wrong?"

She froze, sensing his annoyance and barely suppressed anger. Her breath quickened again, and she ducked her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. "N-nothing. It's f-fine." But she didn't try to brush past him into the store.

Spike raised an incredulous eyebrow. Don't they know by now that I can read them more easily than that? Dipping his head to look into her face, he caught sight of her expression, and he knew. Drawing himself up again, he clenched his teeth and sucked in his cheeks slightly. "You're having second thoughts." His eyes flashed amber in the dim glow of the streetlamp, and Tara flinched.

Spike felt his grip on the doorframe tighten dangerously. Her startled expression and obvious desire for flight gave him a guilty thrill as she shook her head, a denial dead on her dry lips.

"Go ahead on home to your bird, why don't you, and snuggle in your nice warm bed. No need to worry about keeping your word." His tone wasn't very convincing, but he sniffed and tossed his head slightly in forced bravado in an attempt to sell it. "It's not like you're the only person who can help, after all."

A distant flicker of light inside the shop caught his attention momentarily, and realizing that perhaps he wasn't so wrong after all, he smiled coldly. "Someone else here I can see who might be a bit more willing to lend a hand." His voice was harsh, biting back like a wounded animal; and ignoring Tara's anguished expression, he pushed past her before he lost his resolve.

Damn it, Tara thought as she followed him into the shop and closed the door. I wasn't ready. I wanted more time to prepare before I told him. To explain why. Craning her neck, she peered after him, trying to see where he'd gone and desperately trying to come up with the right words to say. She knew that she'd better think of something, because he looked pretty confident he could get help elsewhere, and that would likely not be of the good. And then the significance of the shop lights dawned on her. Anya. Oh, definitely not of the good, Tara thought, and she ran a hand through her wind-tangled hair.

No one had seen much of Anya after the incident at the wedding. Tara wasn't sure what to expect from the jilted ex-vengeance demon, but she was certain that her mood would not be of the fluffy kitten variety. Likely more along the lines of… She didn't even like to think words of that nature. And she was sure that exercising caution would not be high on Anya's list of priorities right now. If Spike worked his charm, Tara knew she was more than likely to be swayed, and she urged herself into action.

Even now, as she entered the shop proper, she could hear Spike's smooth voice as he leaned across the counter towards a primly dressed Anya. At times like this, Tara could see how Buffy was taken with the vampire. Although this was mostly an act, she could imagine how effective his charms would be when genuine feelings were behind them.

Anya, however, had over a thousand years of experience with men of all varieties. "And this would benefit me how?" Tara heard her saying. And a bottom line practicality with a no-nonsense attitude to match, the witch thought admiringly.

Smiling winningly, Spike responded. "Because Xander will hate the idea, love. Only person he hates more than me is Angel. You help me do this, and Angel will likely be around more often to drive him 'round the bend."

Anya's eyes glowed. "Oh, I like the sound of that. No one else seems to think Xander deserves any retribution for what he did to me."

"I do, luv. Doesn't know how good he had it with you."

"Thank you. Glad someone sees that. But why would you want to do this?"

Tara almost sighed in relief. Spike wouldn't want to explain this to Anya in any detail.

"Does it really matter why I want this, as long as Xander will hate it?"

Anya stood up straight and her face brightened. "You're right. Why should I care as long as we both get what we want?"

Okay, Tara thought, so Anya's practicality has a decided downside.

The vengeance demon leaned in conspiratorially towards Spike. "I have my powers back, you know. You could make a wish."

"No!" Tara interrupted.

They both turned to her, Anya more startled than Spike by her outburst.

"D-don't do it that way." Tara's mind was racing along with her heart. "Vengeance wishes are t-too unpredictable."

"Unpredictable?" Anya remarked, obviously offended.

"W-willow told me what happened with Cordelia's wish. I'm sure that wasn't what she had in mind."

"I gave Cordelia exactly what she wished for," Anya defended herself. She crossed her arms. "She said she wished that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale, so that's what I made happen."

Spike's eyes widened with interest, but he didn't interrupt the women's discussion.

Tara looked at the ex-vengeance demon incredulously. "W-willow was a vampire. Xander, too. You can't tell me that's what Cordelia wanted to happen."

Anya shrugged. "It was her wish."

Spike looked like his curiosity finally got the better of him. "And where was I in all this? Bet I was enjoying Red and Harris as vampires."

"Oh, you were gone," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Gone?" Spike asked. "As in South America?"

"No. Gone gone. Because Buffy never came to Sunnydale, she never defeated the Master and she never found Angel."

Spike snorted. "Can't be too sorry about that."

"Instead, he was the prisoner of the Master and Willow," Anya continued almost cheerfully. "You tried to get him out. So you could cure Drusilla. But the Master had risen, so he was too strong for you, and you were badly wounded. By the time you recovered, Dru was dying and beyond help. So you granted her final request."

"Which was," he prompted warily.

"Oh," she began with a smile. "For you to see the sunrise together. And being the loyal vamp you are, you didn't want to be without her, so you held each other until the sun came up, and poof." She motioned with her hands dramatically. "And your ashes drifted gently to the ground, mixing together." She waved her fingers down through the air as one might do to signify rain. "It was so romantic."

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Yeahhh." He shook his head as if trying to clear it of the image. Turning to Tara, he said. "Oookay, no wishes from the vengeance demon, then."

"You don't have to die in your wish," Anya said with a bright smile.

Spike turned back to her. "I think I'll pass. Better stick to the garden-variety magic. That's bad enough as it is, love. But I'm sure you have some experience in that area. You could still help me, if you like. Remember, Xander will hate it," he reminded her with a winning smile and a slight ducking of his head.

Anya nodded slightly, considering, and somehow Tara knew she was going to concede. She could sense it happening. Feeling helpless to stop it any other way, her resolve finally crumbled. "All right, all right, damn it! I'll help you!"

Her outburst caused Spike to turn to her, mouth slightly agape. Anya simply raised her eyebrows.

"I don't like it," Tara added more softly. "There are so many ways this could go wrong. We don't even know if we can find a spell yet that will link your minds and allow you to defeat Angelus. And what if he kills you?"

Spike raised his hand in a placatory gesture. "I'll be careful, pet. We'll be careful," he amended, and dropping his hand, he started pacing. "You're not talking to someone who takes magic lightly, here. We'll do this right." He fished in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it in his mouth and lighting it as he continued to pace. "You have to understand. I have a feeling in my gut that this is the right thing to do. I don't want to leave her. And I'll have to if we don't do this." He stopped pacing to look at Tara imploringly.

"Did I miss something?" Anya asked.

"Yeah, pet, but I'll fill you in. If you help us research, that is."

"As long as it doesn't cut into my time here running the shop."

"We'll likely have to purchase supplies," Spike coaxed.

"More likely steal them," Anya retorted.

"For your help, Anya, I'll buy them. Cash on the nose. I promise." He put his hand over his chest and gave her an innocent look.

"That would mean more if your heart was actually beating," Anya pointed out. She sighed dramatically. "What are we looking for?"

"Spells that link minds," Tara answered. "Demon minds."

Walking over to join Spike at the bookcase, Anya began perusing the titles. She turned to him. "This better be a good story as to why we're doing this. And you better not give me a watered down version," she added as her eyes moved back to the volumes.

Tara felt a guilty stir of satisfaction as Spike gave a defeated sigh. At least she wasn't the only one having some second thoughts. "No watered down version," he promised Anya begrudgingly, the look on his face clearly decipherable. "Buffy's going to kill me for this."

*********

It had sounded like a good idea at the time; let Warren have the first blow - a ruse to conceal her newfound knowledge of the nerd's current state. Surprise always worked well, Buffy had found. So that was the plan. Pretend not to know about his super strength. "La, la, la, I'm unsuspecting Buffy. Don't know a thing." Then let him have it when he least expected it. At least that was the plan until Warren actually hit her. The blow sent her flying back into a wall. That hurt! she thought, and immediately followed it with, screw the plan! I'm so gonna kick his ass. Already annoyed at having spent the last three days looking for the little weasel, Buffy was suddenly in no mood to let him knock her around. Or to pretend she was shocked about it. She advanced on Warren with a murderous glare. Seeing her abrupt change in mood from regular Buffy to royally pissed off Buffy seemed to momentarily shake Warren's confidence. Buffy guessed old habits died hard. But before long, he recovered his composure, bolstered by his stolen power like a balding man driving a shiny sports car.

Well, Buffy planned to break his little toy and wipe that smile off his face. Her uppercut to his chin sent him flying backwards onto his rear, and she felt a rush of satisfaction. At least until he smiled and laughed maniacally at her.

"It's going to take more than that, Slayer," he taunted as he picked himself up, seemingly unharmed.

"Oh, I haven't even started," she spat back.

"You have no idea who you are dealing with." He swung at her again, but Buffy didn't let his blow connect.

"Wrong. I know who I'm dealing with. A murderer and a thief. And I'm going to stop you."

She swiped his feet from beneath him with a powerful swing of her leg. Warren fell, but he rolled away from her before she could pin him down. He thrust his own leg towards her, connecting with her thigh and stunning her until he could rise from the ground.

Taking a cleansing breath, Buffy tried to calm herself. Some rage was good. Too much rage made her unfocused. While exchanging a few more blows with him, she tried to think. Her main goal had to be to get those orbs. Unfortunately to do that, she likely had to lose ground a bit, lull him into a false sense of hope. That strategy would probably mean more pain for her - so what else was new? - but in the long run would shorten this battle a bit. That was fine with her. Unlike fighting vampires, this fight was rapidly becoming tedious. As well as there being no satisfying poof into dust at the end, she knew she couldn't kill him, no matter how tempting the thought might be. Warren's next blow, this one bloodying her nose, almost made her rethink that no killing humans philosophy, but instead she went with her plan and allowed herself to fall backwards.

Warren took the bait and charged her, and Buffy had to fight all her instincts and not throw him off as he pummeled her, but when he brought his arm back yet again, she finally saw them. Bingo. She grabbed the pouch from his belt in a flash, ripping the leather straps that held them there. When she smashed the orbs on the ground beside her, she relished the look of utter fear that crossed his face as the power left his body. The moment was fleeting.

"Bitch!" he spat, and jumped off of her before she could grab him.

Why don't they ever let me enjoy my victories? Buffy thought. She ran after him, but he'd planned an escape she could never have anticipated. Grabbing something from behind a trashcan, he shouldered it, and went straight up, his rocket pack firing from his back.

"Hey!" She raised her arms in frustration and yelled at the sky. "Give me a friggin' break!" Then she calmed herself and smiled. At least she'd smashed the orbs. Warren would have to go back to just being his ordinary self, and next time she found him, she wouldn't let him escape.

*********

Willow was actually sad that class had to end early this evening. She supposed that probably made her a nerd, but hey, she got the good grades, didn't she? However, as she walked quickly down the sidewalk, keeping to the well-lit areas, she supposed walking to the parking lot alone hadn't been the smartest idea. She probably should have just waited until her friend got out of class so they could walk together. But then she wouldn't be able to stop by the Magic Box and surprise Tara. Breathing a sigh of relief when she made it to the car, she allowed herself a little silent gloating, so as not to tempt fate, before slipping behind the wheel.

Willow smiled the whole way to the shop. Tara had been so busy lately, researching. It would be good to see her. Maybe she could talk her lover into letting her help, convince her she'd be fine researching magic as long as she stayed away from the actual application. If it would help Buffy, she'd be glad to bear the temptation. She pulled into the lot, parking right beside her girlfriend's car, and almost skipped to the front door.

But as she neared the shop entrance, something seemed off, so she peered carefully through the front door. Upon catching sight of the two other people gathered around the table with Tara, her hand froze in mid knock, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. Why would Anya and Spike be researching with Tara? Come to think of it, Tara had carried a faint smell of smoke after her research sessions the past three or four days. An ugly feeling of betrayal began to seep into Willow's brain. Tara hadn't mentioned researching with Spike. Or Anya for that matter. Willow didn't like feeling that her girlfriend was perhaps hiding something from her. Maybe Tara felt she couldn't trust her with the truth. But she had been doing so well. She'd stayed away from magic. How could Tara not trust her?

For a moment, Willow considered knocking. Very telling that I still haven't gotten my key to the shop back, huh, she thought bitterly, but she so didn't feel like talking with Anya tonight. Though her good mood was already ruined, there was no need to make things worse. Seeing Anya and dealing with a snarky Spike would likely ensure bad-moodiness; and sighing heavily, she headed back to her car. She would ask Tara about it later, and bypass any need to subject herself to Anya and Spike. Besides, there had to be a good explanation, right? A perfectly innocent one must be available. Although if that were true, why did she feel so betrayed?

Despite stopping for a donut and coffee and taking the scenic route home, the ugly thoughts couldn't be chased from Willow's mind. And hours later, as she crawled into a cold bed alone, they still remained. 

TBC


	8. Revelations

**Author's notes:** I thank everyone for their reviews and input.

**Summary:** Previously Tara decided that she would help Spike after all. Buffy finally found Warren and smashed his orbs. Willow discovered that Tara was perhaps hiding something from her.

**Chapter 7: Revelations**

Looking at the notes before her, Tara knew stalling was no longer an option. The spell was inevitable now. The other occupants of the table had been working with her for too long on this, had been with her every step of the way, and had even found some of the spell's components. She couldn't pretend that there was much more left to do. She'd been surprised at how helpful they actually had been. For someone who was wary of magic and spells, Spike seemed to know an awful lot about the subject, and about languages used in the spells, especially demon ones. And for someone to whom magic powers had been innate for so long, Anya had quickly picked up the nuances of spell-casting magic. But then again, such knowledge was good for business, so Tara supposed she shouldn't be that surprised. No, soon it would be useless to stall any further.

"How's it coming?" Anya asked as if reading her mind. "That bridge spell for minds that I found should have helped. And Spike's adjustment for demons."

"I've almost got them incorporated," Tara acquiesced.

Anya brightened. "Good. I'm glad I could help. The actual spell, though..." She wrinkled her forehead. "It's going to be long, isn't it?"

"Most likely," Tara answered.

"And delicate?"

"Definitely."

She nodded as if expecting that. "Then I'd better not. I might get called away."

"Called away?" Tara asked.

"Vengeance," Anya explained off-handedly.

Tara shivered a little. "Oh."

"It's been slow lately and D'Hoffryn is not pleased, so…"

"You gotta do what you gotta do," Spike said with some sympathy.

"Right," Anya said, but there was no enthusiasm in her voice.

The silence that followed was so awkward, Tara was almost glad for her reason to break it. Almost. She held the piece of paper out towards Spike. "You may want to look this over. It's a first draft, but fairly close."

Taking the paper from her, Spike gave her a grateful look. "Thanks."

"And S-Spike..."

He titled his head and waited.

"I might have some conditions before doing this."

"Whatever you need to do," the vampire conceded.

Tara nodded. "I'll let you know soon."

Anya seemed to take that as a signal that she was free to go. "Well, let me know how this turns out," she said as she stood. "I'd like to be there to see Xander's face when Angel comes back."

Spike looked up from his perusal of the spell and smiled at her. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good luck," she told Spike.

"Thanks, pet," he replied, sparing her a brief gaze before returning to his study of the spell.

Tara stood as well. "I better be getting back. I'm sure Willow is wondering..."

"'Course, love. I'll lock up."

Tara nodded, and then gathered her things quickly. She needed to get home to Willow. She'd sensed something in her lover recently, a growing unease, and these late nights with Spike and Anya weren't helping. At least this was one good thing to come from finishing the spell. She could go home to her girlfriend.

As she entered the room they shared, Tara saw the expression on Willow's face, the imploring eyes that begged for an explanation, the lips that curled in a frown, and she knew Willow knew something.

"Tara…" Willow began, but Tara cut her off.

"Willow, I have something to tell you. And I need your help. Will you help me?"

The almost relieved smile that came to her lover's lips made Tara's heart ache. Perhaps she should have told her from the beginning, but then again Willow would have wanted to help, and what she would do now was risky enough. Willow always got so involved when creating a spell. At least this way, that temptation was already gone, but...

"Whatever you need, baby," Willow said. "I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

Tara knew then that she couldn't deny Willow the chance to help. And with her girlfriend's guidance, perhaps she could actually make this work.

*********

The door swung open almost immediately after Tara's hesitant knock, but Willow didn't expect the face she saw behind it. The normally manicured hair was somewhat disheveled and the usually bright, blue eyes were tired. Spike looked worn out, for lack of a better description. That was short-lived. Upon seeing her, the vampire's face soon turned annoyed.

"What's she doing here?" he asked Tara, a slight tone of betrayal present in his voice.

"I s-said that I would help you do the spell, but under some conditions, and this is one. Willow must be here when I do it."

Spike shook his head. "No. She can't help. I don't want her doing any magic." He looked straight at Willow, and she felt his conviction. "It's too easy to fall back into old habits. I know." He closed his eyes a moment before returning his gaze to Tara.

Willow had the feeling Spike spoke from experience and was both somewhat touched by his concern and annoyed by his tone. Why did everyone think she couldn't handle this when she had been doing so well? Taking a cleansing breath, she focused herself. She wanted answers. Spike would explain to her what this was about, and what he had to say had better be good. This was Buffy, her best friend, and she was darn tootin' going to be told what this was about if she was going to help. She would ease his worries, though, and let him know that she planned to be careful. "I won't be performing any of the spells myself," she told the vampire. "… if there are going to be any spells," she added in a serious tone that was punctuated by her resolve face. "But Tara wants me to talk her through some of the more difficult stuff."

Spike nodded, though somewhat reluctantly. "All right, but how come I have the feeling that it's not that easy?" The look he pinned on Tara was a little intimidating, and Willow bristled slightly. Her lover lifted her chin and held her ground under his gaze, and Willow was proud of her.

"Willow wants to know. She wants to understand. I thought it would be better coming from you."

Spike's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to tell her? I can't do that. Too many people know already. Buffy would stake me if she found out."

"She d-doesn't have to know that you told," Tara said.

Spike shook his head. "It would hurt Buffy."

Tara held his gaze. "Willow can't understand your point of view unless you tell her. She'll keep the secret. Buffy won't know."

"But…"

"It's necessary," Tara told him. "I won't do this without Willow. And Willow won't do this unless she understands."

Spike looked at Willow then back to Tara. "I don't like it. This might hurt Willow, too, and I'll get blamed."

Tara looked at her with some concern. "It might, but it is necessary."

"Okay, not liking the implications here," Willow said. "What are you talking about?" What could possibly be that bad?

She was about to find out.

Spike explained it all, starting with the truce he and Buffy had when they fought Acathla together, a detail Buffy had never really shared with the rest of them, but that Spike seemed to think was the turning point in his unlife. Willow might not have believed it until he laid the details out for them: how the other demons quickly found out, how he was then considered weak, how Drusilla no longer thought him demon enough, and how his desire to win her back had brought him to Sunnydale - twice - and had finally resulted in his current chipped condition. The thought that one event could change someone's existence so drastically unnerved her so much that she almost missed Spike's subsequent mentioning of the spell that caused him and Buffy to be engaged until she noticed Tara looking at her in admonishment. And barely controlled amusement.

"Willow, you didn't, did you?" Tara asked her.

Fortunately, her brain belatedly caught up with the conversation. "It was an accident. I said I was sorry," she added sheepishly. "Remember - lots of cookies." Then she sat up straighter. "And hey, no trying to pin this on me. You still tried to kill Buffy and us after that, so no blaming me for your feelings for Buffy. That wasn't when it happened." She nodded, proud of herself. This mess definitely wasn't her fault.

"Okay, no," Spike admitted. "That wasn't when it happened." He looked at her suspiciously. "Though I'm sure it didn't help any either." He sniffed before continuing his story.

It turned out that the last time he tried to get his chip out was when it had happened, or at least started, Spike not being completely positive it was really love and not just obsession until the torture incident with Glory. Willow raised her eyebrows in surprise. "It started that long ago? How could we not have known?"

"Um, well," Spike began, "then you're really not gonna like the rest of this. That's nothing compared to what's happened since Buffy came back."

Again Willow was skeptical. What could have possibly happened that was so huge and that she didn't know about? This was Buffy, and sure, there had been the whole coming back from heaven thing, but certainly there couldn't be that many more secrets. Again she was wrong.

The first shock came when Spike told his story about when Buffy first came back and about how she told him about being in heaven.

Willow's eyes widened. "You knew the whole time? She told you?"

He quickly attempted to diffuse her ire. "Now, don't go getting all hurt. There was a reason she told me, and it's not because she thought I was her bestest friend," he said sarcastically.

"And you didn't tell us?" Willow continued, not feeling very consoled. "We might have been able to help her sooner."

"She told me never to tell," Spike explained. "And well, you see, after I knew… well, you had hurt her."

"You were mad at us," Tara said knowingly.

Looking away, Spike nodded slightly. "I tried not to be, but..." He shook his head. "It's not important now. Water under the bridge."

"No. You had a right to be angry," Tara said. "We didn't tell you. We should have told you."

"Yeah, well remember that when we get to this next bit, huh, ducks. You might have to do a little interference."

Willow felt her stomach clench. "This is gonna be bad, isn't it?"

Spike looked at her askance. "Oh yeah." He shot a pleading look at Tara, silently asking her to let him off the hook, but Tara only shook her head, so he took out a cigarette and lit it. "Buffy and I… It started when Sweet came to town. We all spilled our guts and well, I said some things that Buffy might have taken to heart. It might have happened anyway, even though things were going so well. Us as friends I mean…"

Willow knew stalling when she heard it. "Spike, what are you trying to say?"

"That night, after Sweet left, we kissed."

"Well that's not so bad. As long as it didn't…"

"And then a little while later we…"

He didn't have to say it. By the look on his face, she knew. Her mouth dropped open. Then her eyes narrowed and she sneered. "What did you do to her?"

"Me?" Spike asked. "I didn't bloody start it."

"But you sure took advantage, didn't you?"

Spike rolled his eyes and pointed to himself. "Vampire, here. Since when am I supposed to be the model of restraint and virtue?" He took a deep drag of his cigarette. "But that's not the point. Point is things got ugly fast. Only I didn't see it. Or didn't want to. And I didn't want to give her up. I said things. She said things."

Tara looked like she remembered something and had to ask. "That night with the demons that made time mess up. Something happened, didn't it?"

Spike tilted his head at Tara questioningly. "Why do you ask?"

"What happened, Spike?" Tara asked.

Seeing her lover's troubled face, Willow had the feeling that Tara knew something, and perhaps had known something about this for a long while.

"No, luv, you don't want to know. It was bad. Let's just leave it at that."

"You hurt her somehow." Willow felt the words come out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Spike didn't answer. He looked away and crushed out what was left of his cigarette.

"N-no," Tara almost whispered. "She hurt you, didn't she? A-and it was bad."

Spike shook his head. "My fault. I wanted her to. Thought she'd feel better if she…"

Tara's mouth gaped and her eyes opened wide in realization. "At her birthday, when you were beat up. She did that? Spike, you don't have to let her beat you. You can stop her now."

"Look, it wasn't really that bad. Besides, I did some things I shouldn't have as well. I'm not the innocent here, Tara."

Willow hardly heard Spike's response. Her mind had latched on to what Tara had said. "What do you mean, he can stop her now? Is his chip not working?" She felt her body tense and her breath catch.

"Still got the chip." Spike said. "It only doesn't work on Buffy."

Willow turned to Tara. "And you knew this and didn't tell me? He could have killed her."

"He w-wouldn't hurt her," Tara objected.

Spike snapped his gaze up to Tara. "You know that's not necessarily true. That's one of the reasons I'm doing this." Willow felt his eyes on her now and looked up. "I'm getting desperate, Red; I can't lose her again, and I can't stand to see her unhappy anymore. I'm afraid I'll do something to hurt her trying to get her back. But if I can get her Angel, I could still be a part of it, and she could be happy. She needs someone like him. Because a regular guy…" Spike shook his head. "No room for a regular guy in the Slayer's life. Not the way she is anymore."

Willow might have objected to that, but considering Buffy's history, she decided the point was likely moot. A regular guy, especially a new one, would be one more complication, one more thing for Buffy to worry about. "And that's where the spell for Angel's soul comes in." 

"Right," Spike said, and he looked grateful that she hadn't disagreed with him. "They may be living in separate worlds now, but they could get together every once in a while. Whenever they needed contact with one another. And she'd know there was always someone there for her. So I thought it would be perfect. Fix it so he wouldn't lose his soul when, well, you know. But once this stupid side effect thing came to light, well... Let's just say that if Angelus got control, he'd kill her. If I'm the demon, I already love her so there wouldn't be that danger. I'll just have to be strong and not let the bleeding soul get to me. I'll just have to accept it and not fight it, and it'll be fine. She'd have her soul and her demon."

"But if you think it's the soul, why not have us curse you with the new and improved spell?" Willow asked.

Spike looked at her like she was insane. "Hello!" he said. "Demon here! I'm the one that loves her. That bloody wanker William, whose body this was, if he came back through the curse, he'd be the bloody one in control most of the time. That is, if he didn't off himself from the guilt. And," he added with emphasis, "if you only knew what he was like." He scoffed. "He'd probably run off with the nearest spinster librarian he could find."

"Spinster librarian?" Willow asked. "Someone called William the Bloody would run off with a librarian."

Spike, too riled up to think of what he was saying, blurted out, "He was William the Bloody because of his bloody awful poetry. He was a total git. He made Giles look tough…" He stopped his tirade when he saw them looking at him. "You tell a bloody soul," he warned with a growl.

The women dipped their faces a little, trying their best not to smirk.

"That wasn't me." He pointed to himself. "Evil demon." He snorted. "Took me decades to forget all the stupid poetry, though." He smirked a little. "Though for a while there, I used to recite it to make Dru laugh. She thought it was amazing that anyone she thought had such vision could create something so gauche. Then we used to agree that after that rot, he deserved to get eaten." He tilted his head and took out another cigarette. "Hell, we did him a favor anyway. He never would have recovered from that broken heart."

"Broken heart?" Tara asked.

"Yeah. He loved some bint that thought he was beneath her. Used to write all that poetry for her, and when he told her how he loved her and she rejected him... They were staring at him. "Bloody hell," he said. Then he looked at them seriously. "It's not the same thing. I am not him!"

"W-we believe you," Tara said, trying a little too hard to sound convincing.

"But some of the personality remains," Willow said. "At least that's what Angel said, because believe me, when I saw vampire Willow, I didn't think that could be me, but..."

Spike closed his eyes and took an unneeded breath through clenched teeth. "I spent most of my unlife trying to get rid of William. You can't know what it's like. To be a freak. To feel things I'm not supposed to."

"T-there's nothing wrong with feeling things," Tara soothed.

"There is when you're a bloody demon!" Spike spat. "I'm not supposed to feel these things. And now." He exhaled in frustration. "I'm… changed, but… I can't be a monster, but I'm not a man. No matter what I try to do it's not enough. Still evil in her mind. Still can't feel the guilt for the world she seems to think is so necessary. Still don't have a moral compass. Never will. I'm a demon. Can't change that, no matter what good things I try to do." His jaw worked a little, and he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

Even though he was with them, Willow had the feeling that Spike felt like he was alone. She was beginning to see why Spike wanted to do this spell despite the consequences. He wanted to be something other than an outcast. He wanted somewhere to belong. Willow knew the feeling all too well.

For Tara, it was the pain in Spike's eyes that affected her the most. She felt a momentary twinge of guilt remembering a college conversation concerning the Hunchback of Notre Dame. She remembered how she had told Willow that Quasimodo could never have his Esmerelda for the very same reason. That everything the hunchback had done was for the selfish reason of his love for the woman who could never love him back. Somehow faced with a real someone in the same situation, it didn't seem so cut and dried.

"After you get put in his body, you won't have control most of the time," Willow explained. "I mean, at first, you will have some control, while things are still getting settled, but later you will mostly be in the background. Like being in his shadow."

Not much different than now, his expression said. "But, I will be there, right? I'll know what's going on?"

"I would assume so. Otherwise, Angel wouldn't have known what his demon did while he was away, and vice versa, so I'm sure there is some interaction, and some awareness, somehow," Willow answered, trying to sound convincing.

"That's more than enough, then," Spike said. "I mean, it'll be hard, not being in control, but I'll still be able to love her, and be with her, even if it is just in his shadow."

The last part passed his lips almost as a whisper, but Tara heard it. In response, she made a noise, almost like a whimper.

Spike looked at her and tilted his head. "Something wrong, pet?"

Tara took one look into his emotion-filled eyes, and the tears that had been threatening hers began to spill. "Goddess, how can she not see how much you love her?"

Spike turned away, and swallowed hard. "She can't let herself, love. It doesn't matter if I love her. I'm evil. She's good. Nothing good can come of it for her. I'm beneath her." His voice was getting rough. "Now don't bloody say anything else or I'll…" He pressed the heels of his hands in his eyes and sniffed to stop tears that Tara knew should come, but that he wouldn't let them see.

They didn't touch him. They didn't say anything. They just let the vampire be. 

Tara cried quietly, overcome by emotion, but also because she understood. Sometimes loving someone wasn't enough. Love didn't always conquer all. The world was too complicated a place, and sometimes love was too delicate to meet its demands. Then she felt Willow's hands rub her shoulders, and for a moment, just a moment, she could almost believe that it could.

Her attention was brought back to the vampire as he took a last shuddering breath and raised his head. He raked a hand through his hair, and then looked at Willow expectantly, his eyes demanding an answer. He was done. No more explanations would be given. They could see that in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his jaw. He was finished baring his metaphorical soul. Now it was up to Willow to say yes or no.

Willow cleared her throat. It sounded loud in the silence of the crypt. "All right," she finally said. "I'll help."

Spike closed his eyes and nodded a thank you. "'Preciate it." He hefted himself off of the sarcophagus. "Better get going," he announced.

"Where are you going?" Willow asked softly.

"Hard part's not over," Spike explained with an ironic smirk. "This was easy. Now I gotta go break the news to Angel. He'll either accept or stake me. Either way, the problem will be solved."

"Be careful," Tara said.

Spike smiled at her softly, looking somewhat touched by her concern. "Too late for that now. Much too late." He let his gaze shift to include Willow. "I'll let you know when I get back. You can start preparing whatever you need to until then. Do you need any money for supplies?"

"No, I think we'll be fine," Tara said. To herself, she thought, You have enough to worry about right now.

Spike nodded and headed to his lower level to get what he needed for his trip to L.A.

*********

Angel looked strangely at the young man who held out the envelope. He was no more than Connor's age.

"You don't know who this is from?"

"H-he never told me his name, and please don't ask me any more. Just take it so I can go."

Angel had the feeling that there was some coercion involved in the delivering of this message, so he decided not to push the boy further. Any answers he gave were likely to be lies, anyway. Of course, he could always flash some fangs, threaten information out of him. He sighed at the thought, and instead reached out to take the manila envelope from the boy's fingers. Nearly dropping the package in his haste, the young man was out the door before Angel had the chance to change his mind.

He contemplated the envelope a moment, trying to distinguish anything from the smell or texture, but in the end, he settled for opening it. The torn piece of photocopy fluttered out along with a handwritten note that read, "This is part of a spell that can permanently bind your soul to you. If you want to know more, meet me at the abandoned Mercer warehouse on Huxley tonight at midnight. I would prefer you came alone."

Angel looked for more, and finding nothing else, stared at the paper and the note. A tingling sensation crawled through his body as he thought of the implications of the note and the words written on the photocopy. It was a spell, that was sure, but could it really be what the note said? His brain warned him to be cautious, but his heart wanted to grab at any chance that it might be true. He would go tonight, he knew. Now he had to decide how much he should tell his friends and coworkers. Sometimes it was hard not being a loner anymore. There were others to consider now, but he guessed it was a price he had to be willing to pay. Taking the papers carefully, he went off in search of Cordelia.

TBC

Next chapter – Spike goes to L.A. 


	9. Reunion

**Author's notes:** Some dialog in this chapter is borrowed from "The Gift" by the god Joss Whedon. No harm intended. Thanks to all who have reviewed.

To the reader who reviewed and said it was difficult to remember what is going on, I've given summaries before each new chapter that briefly describe the previous chapter's action. I hope that this will help.

**Summary:** Previously – Tara finished the spell. At Tara's prompting, Spike convinced Willow to help (in a non-magic capacity). Angel received a note.

**Chapter 8: ****Reunion******

A battered streetlamp provided the only illumination in the old, abandoned building, its yellow haze filtering through a smashed window to glitter across the broken glass that littered the floor. The building's lone occupant disrupted that light, his body throwing shadows across the dusty room as he paced restlessly. He listened to the glass fragments crunch under his boots, marginally calmed by the grating sound.

Spike was nervous, and that made him angry. Why should he be nervous? He was the one that held Angel's potential happiness in his hands. _Yeah_, he thought, _but that won't do you a sodding bit of good if the poof turns you into a pile of dust before you can even speak, now will it?_ And he could think of a dozen reasons why Angel might do just that, not the least of which being that Hairboy would know that he'd been with Buffy. Well, maybe he could convince him her scent on his coat was from a recent fight, rather than a shag. Yeah, right, and he was the queen Mum.

Spike wanted to smoke, but that would disrupt the rhythm of his pacing, so he had to decide which would be more calming. Finally opting for the smoking, he halted, leaning against a support pole near the broken window. _No need to deprive myself of the night air_, he reasoned. One advantage of being a vampire, smoking didn't hurt your sense of smell. Though considering the neighborhood, perhaps that might have been a good thing. Withdrawing a cigarette from his tattered pack, he raised the flame of his silver lighter to the tip. He sighed as he exhaled smoke and contemplated the darkness of the warehouse, letting it distracted him only for a moment. _Maybe this was a mistake_, he thought, then raised his head. _Too late now though_. Angel was there. Spike could feel him.

"I hope you're planning to hear me out, before you do anything rash," he said.

"I don't know what you could possibly have to say, Spike. This must be some sort of trick. You'd never suggest doing this for me otherwise. You..." Stopping abruptly, Angel stiffened, his hands clenching into fists by his sides.

_Oh, yeah, he knows_. Spike threw his cigarette down dramatically, making sure it flared in the dark as it descended.

"Yeah, figured you'd be able to tell. Suppose now you want to fight first."

"First? If we fight, that's the only thing we'll be doing," Angel growled. "What did you do to her, Spike?"

He began a slow, circling pace around the younger vampire.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. No one ever does," Spike said, his expression mimicking that of a martyr. He kept a discreet, but wary eye on his grandsire. "So let's get this over with. You can beat the shit out of me so you can feel all manly, then we can get down to business. Doing minimum permanent damage would be to your benefit, however."

"I'd rather kill you."

"Yeah, but then you won't get your cure, now will you?" He gave Angel a smirk. "Unless that isn't what you really want. Maybe you like that little clause in your curse. Gives you a good excuse to walk away from her and still feel like you're the wronged party." Spike pointed at him for emphasis and flashed him a smug look.

In response, Angel threw a punch, but his anger made it easy for Spike to grab his wrist before the punch could connect.

"Ooh, what's the matter? Did I hit a nerve?" Spike taunted him, and then grabbed Angel's other wrist, stopping the next strike as well.

"I left, because I loved her enough to let her have a life." Angel said through clenched teeth.

Spike could see the rage there behind his rival's eyes, kept in check only to deny him the satisfaction of claiming he was right.

"You were the one who pointed out we couldn't be friends, remember?" Angel yanked both his hands out of Spike's grasp and returned them to his sides, fists balled.

"If you really loved her, you would've made it work."

Angel pushed him away a few feet, out of his personal space. "You have no idea what love is Spike. What kind of sacrifice it takes..."

"Don't I?" Spike's eyes flared and threatened to turn gold. "I love that woman more than you **ever** will! I would do anything for her. I'd give my whole damn life just for the chance of her love, but **you're** the one she loves. Nothing I do can change that. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm doing this. For **her**! Not you."

Momentarily abandoning all plans of attack, Angel stared at him in disbelief. If Spike had said that he was going to dance down the street in a pink tutu, Angel couldn't have been more surprised. Actually, the tutu sounded much more probable. He barked out a snorted laugh, just one, as he searched Spike's blue eyes for any indication of deceit. He couldn't find any.

"Spike, you can't be serious? This makes no sense."

"Never claimed it did. Since when has love made sense?"

"You're telling me you love her? You love Buffy?"

"That's what I just got bloody through explaining to you, you git. Weren't you paying attention?"

"Oh, I heard you. It's just... Spike you hate Buffy. You've been trying to kill her for years."

"Past tense, mate. Long time ago. Been in love with her going on almost two years now. Couldn't kill her for a year before that." He pointed to his head. "Got a government chip in my noggin. It sends electric shocks to my brain if I try to hurt a human. Can't kill anyone except demons. That's been for three years now."

"Why'd you let the government..."

"I didn't let. They just did. Had no choice in that. Fought it a long time, I did. Tried to get it out. Gave up after a while." Spike sighed heavily. "It's a bloody pain though. Sometimes the bad guys are human, then I'm useless to the Slayer."

"So now you're telling me that you help Buffy? What do you do? Go around killing vampires and demons?" Angel asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

"Yeah, I help. Or I did. Don't think she'll let me anymore. Things got complicated."

"Why doesn't that surprise me? And why should I trust this story that you've got a chip in your head, and even if you do, that you wouldn't kill Buffy the first chance you had to get it out."

Spike sighed again. "The first part is easy. We go back to your work, and I'll show you how it works. Doesn't take much. Believe me, the blasted thing's sensitive. And the second, I don't need the chip out to kill Buffy. Already could do that if I wanted. Some wonky side effect of her being brought back from the dead. Don't want to kill her. If you need proof, I'll get you Tara's number - she's Red's girlfriend. She'll back me up on that. Better yet, Red knows, too. She could tell you I'm not lying."

"Spike this is crazy, and..."

"Look, what do you want to do? Do you want to go back to your place and sort this out, or do you want to fight? Standing here bloody talking is not one of the choices. It accomplishes shit."

"Oh, you're wrong about that, but we can continue talking back at the hotel," Angel said. "But first..." With inhuman speed, he boxed Spike on the side of the head. Hard.

Spike stumbled from the blow and looked angrily at his grandsire. "Hey!" he objected.

"That's for touching Buffy," Angel told him. "Be glad I don't kill you for it. Though how you talked her into it..."

"I didn't talk her into anything. It was her idea. I'm in **love** with the woman. You really expected me to say, 'gee, Buffy, maybe we better not do this?'" Spike asked him with a badly done country accent and a look that asked him if he was crazy.

Angel glared at him.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist. She used me good and proper, told me I was dirt, and dumped me. Oh, after she told me she did want me, but she'd never love me, so it was killing her. Guess that was somehow **my** fault." Spike grumbled the last part, but his voice picked up again. He was on a roll. "Worst part was, somehow in her mind, now she couldn't even be associated with me anymore." He put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders before gesturing to the door and continued as he started walking. "I mean, where'd that come from? Before we started shagging we patrolled all the time together. The rest of the bloody Scoobies knew that. I was always at her house even before then to look after Dawn. Then suddenly she can't even be seen talking like friends with me?" He scoffed. "It's just Spike. He'll be there if we need him, otherwise treat him like a dog. Never mind that he worked beside us all summer, killing the nasties..."

Angel would have stopped him, but it was like a train wreck or a sideshow. He couldn't take his gaze away from the spectacle unfolding. Not even Spike was this good at making up such an elaborate story.

Spike stopped his tirade as he came to his motorcycle, and looked at Angel. "You got your car? If so, we'll have to break and meet up at your place."

After letting the motorcycle catch his attention for a moment, Angel looked at Spike. "And they said I was strange for driving a convertible."

Spike shrugged. "Got it off of a demon I killed." Smiling evilly and raising his eyebrows, he added, "Besides, the Slayer liked it."

Angel shot him a murderous look but knew that's what Spike was hoping for and stopped himself. He decided to goad him back instead. Besides he could always kill him later. "So you really helped Buffy's friends while she was gone?" He made sure to make it sound like he thought it sweet.

Spike looked like he'd been caught. So Brood Boy had been paying attention to his little tirade. He might as well come out and admit he was a bloody poofter if he agreed, but lying would make him look like he was making everything up. Damn Angel. He always did know how to get to him. "Phh, I had to kill something, right. Demons gotta kill. Might as well do it with help. 'M not exactly popular with the demons these days. 'Sides, if I wasn't a good little dog, they'd never let me see the Little Bit."

Angel raised his eyebrows in question. "Little Bit?"

"Dawn, you git. I happen to like the girl. Just like her Mum. That woman made a nice cuppa. Now are you gonna ride with me or not?"

"I've got my car, though I've got to admit, that's a nice ride."

"Hands off." _It'll be yours soon enough_, he thought somewhat bitterly, then swallowed his venom. He had to remember who this was for, who it always was for. Buffy.

"Hyperion Hotel," Angel told him.

Spike nodded and mounted the bike. He sped away loudly into the night without looking back.

"Damn nice ride," Angel said as he watched him leave.

*********

Entering the lobby with Spike in tow, Angel said "hey, Cordy," to Cordelia as he crossed the floor. Spike noted that Angel didn't find it at all odd that she was up at this time of night.

Cordelia looked up briefly from the invoices she was sorting through, her gaze taking in both vampires before returning to the bills. "Angel," she sighed. "What's Spike doing here? I mean I know we help the hopeless, but I think that's taking charity a little too far."

Spike gave her a winning smile. "That was funny. I see you haven't lost your wit." He turned to Angel. "See, that's how you make a joke. You should teach him sometime." The last remark he directed back to Cordelia, his smile still radiating charm.

"I'm afraid that would also fall under the hopeless category," Cordelia teased. "And why again are you here?"

"Must be unpaid invoices," Angel explained, indicating the papers Cordelia held with a movement of his head. "They always make her a bit testy. Not much you can generally do about it."

Sidling up to her, Spike tilted his head to look her over from what he seemed to think was an interesting viewpoint. "Why, Cordelia, you look simply smashing once again. I **love** the hair."

Cordelia smiled back, her mood brightening considerably. "Thanks. At least you noticed. It took those guys weeks to notice I'd even changed it."

"Damn crime, that is," Spike commented, noticing she didn't catch herself and say "Hey!" like the last time he complimented her. Nor did he sense the trepidation that she showed last time they met. _This is going to be fun_, he thought. When his smile turned slightly evil, she frowned at him.

"What?" she asked, her tone more annoyed than anything else. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

He reached out in a flash and grabbed her, vamping out, and moved towards her neck as if to bite her. He let go before his fangs even touched her and put his hands to his head in anticipation of the pain to come.

"Hey!" Cordelia exclaimed. "Watch it, Fang Face!"

Angel moved forward, but oddly enough, Spike noted that once he let go of the woman, Angel seemed to be moving to keep him safe, rather than Cordelia.

"Wait a mo'," Spike said. "That's not right." He pinched Cordelia on the arm.

"Ow!" Cordelia said, punching him hard on the arm in return. "What are you doing, you freak? Angel what's the deal here? Are you going to do something about this?"

Shaking his head almost comically, Spike looked at Angel. "I swear there's a chip in my head. It's bloody supposed to activate when I hurt a human. It can't have stopped working! Not now." A little note of panic laced his voice.

Angel was looking at him, trying hard to suppress his amusement.

"Angel, what is he blathering about and can I zap him or what?" Cordelia asked in annoyance.

"No," Angel almost smiled, and then he forced himself to be a little more serious. "No, Cordy, he's got my cure. And what this was all about... he says that he's harmless to humans, because he's got a chip in his head. I didn't entirely believe him, so he was trying to use you as a guinea pig."

"That's right, and I'm telling the truth," Spike said. "Don't know what's bloody wrong," he said, but he could tell something was up by the amusement on Angel's face and his eyebrows lowered just a little.

"And you said this 'chip' works on humans," Cordelia asked.

"Right. Only doesn't go off if there's demon there..."

"Well, that's your problem, you moron," Cordelia told him, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

Spike looked at her as if she was daft.

"Duh!" she told him pointing to herself. "Part demon." To demonstrate her point, she put down her invoices and brought some light to her fingertips.

"Cordelia, Sweetheart, don't char anything else in the room. Angel did a good enough job with that, and I really don't want to have to redecorate again," Lorne said as he glided into the lobby.

As if the sight of Cordelia with some obviously strange changes wasn't surprising enough, the appearance of the demon with the bold fashion sense threatened to break Spike's grasp of reality. Looking at Angel slightly agape, he asked, "Did I just fall into an alternate dimension? Is anyone here even remotely normal? And lastly," he added, indicating Cordelia with a movement of his hand passing over her form, "what the hell happened to the cheerleader?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "I have to tell this story again?"

"Oh, like you don't love being the all-powerful one?" Lorne chided her.

Cordelia ignored him and turned to Spike. "I inherited visions. They hurt. They were killing me. I could either lose the visions and become a famous and wealthy actress - the only catches being Angel would go insane, Wesley would lose an arm, and potential bad might occur without wonderful me to save the world - or I could become part demon so... I'm part demon. No big deal."

With a turn and a snort, she moved back into the office, taking her invoices with her. Almost immediately she poked her head back out. "Oh, and if you really don't have Angel's cure, or if you harm him in any way, I can obliterate you so fast you won't even see it coming." A smile crossed her lips, but somehow it brought a chill down Spike's spine.

"Well, right, then," Spike said, turning back to Angel.

Angel shrugged a little sheepishly. "Cordy's a dangerous woman. I wouldn't tempt her."

Spike just nodded once before saying, "Well, speaking of dangerous, who's the fashion rebel with the killer ensemble, here? That could blind a bloke at forty paces."

Lorne's tangerine suit and bright yellow shirt did have almost a glow of their own. The demon didn't seem to notice though; he stood there as if he was the height of fashion, his smile and facial expression showing nothing but complete ease with his whereabouts.

"Well not all of us can pull off the black leather look that you seem to have down pretty well," Lorne said. "I'm Lorne."

"Well, obviously demon, so no help there," Spike said as he searched the lobby. The next potential victim he saw didn't even seem to notice him. The large, dark-haired man with the impossibly blue eyes went strait into the office and put his arms around Cordelia. "Let me guess, not human either," Spike said to Angel.

"That's the Groosalug, and he's half demon."

"Isn't anyone around here human?" Spike asked.

"Well Fred and Gunn, but they're out on assignment."

"You're not looking for dinner are you?" Lorne asked, 'because I don't think Angel would allow that."

"No," Spike said, strangely offended. "I was trying to show Brood Boy, here, that I've got a chip in my head that makes it so I can't hurt humans, but I can't find any bloody humans to test it on. Where's Harris when you need a head to smack?"

"You get that urge, too, huh?" Angel asked him.

Spike snorted. "Doesn't give me a bloody break, and makes Buffy's life harder, he does. She's so worried he's gonna find out about us." Spike shook his head.

Lorne cleared his throat. "Hey, listen Blue Eyes, there is another way."

"He's not gonna like it," Cordelia singsonged from the office. She was gathering up her purse and jacket.

"What? What am I not gonna like?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"I can read your intentions. And your destiny," Lorne supplied.

"But..." Spike prompted.

"You have to sing first," Cordelia supplied.

"No, no, and no. No more singing," Spike stated vehemently. "That went to hell enough last time. Bloody singing demon."

"A singing demon?" Lorne asked, intrigued.

Angel snorted. "And this was scary?"

Cordelia came into the room carrying her purse and jacket, Groo beside her. "Did he sing like Angel? 'cuz that would be scary."

"Hey, I don't sing that badly," Angel complained.

"The Gelled One sings?" Spike asked with an evil smile. "I'll do it if he does."

"No!" Cordelia objected. "I mean there has to be another way. You don't have to sing much," she said to Spike, her eyes begging him.

Sighing, Spike looked at the green demon. "So you're not all evil like that other bloke? 'Cuz he was..."

"What did he do?" Lorne looked genuinely interested. "I mean if there are evil singing demons, I need to know. Gives the rest of us a bad reputation."

"Came out of some hell dimension because of a talisman. Made people sing stuff. Spill their secrets when they shouldn't. Then there was the whole bursting into flames thing. Almost lost the Slayer..."

"Buffy burst into flames?" Angel asked, obviously alarmed.

Spike shook his head. "I didn't let her. Stopped her 'fore she did. But that's kinda what started this whole thing with her and me."

"Because you saved her," Angel said.

"No, the singing. I told her stuff I didn't want her to know right then. Changed our relationship. She was kinda relying on me at the time. Stuff she couldn't tell her friends, and..." He shook his head. "I don't want to bloody talk about this," he said suddenly. "It's not important."

"I think it might be," Lorne told him. "Sing me a few bars of what you sang to her,"

"What? No! It was personal."

"Just a few lines, and it'll be all over. I can tell you everything you want to know, and assure Angelcakes here that you're telling the truth. Come on, if Angel can sing Barry Manillow..."

Spike raised an eyebrow at his grandsire.

"Go on," Lorne encouraged him. "Just look at me. Pretend they aren't even there."

"I'm doing this for her..." he muttered before singing, "I died so many years ago, but you make me feel like it isn't so, and why you've come to be with me, I think I finally know..." he stopped, glared at Lorne, and crossed his arms.

Cordelia exhaled. "Why is it the evil ones that can sing?" she asked the sky. "Come on Groo. We better get food, I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."

"Are you going to get chicken wings?" Spike asked, his momentary embarrassment forgotten at the prospect of spicy wings.

"Chinese," Cordelia answered.

"Ooh, that's good too, pick me up some kung pow chicken."

"But you're a vampire," Cordelia snorted. "You don't eat food."

"I do, too. I eat all the time," Spike said, offended.

Lorne cleared his throat. "He's especially fond of those onion things that look like a flower."

"Bloody brilliant those are," Spike agreed, nodding. "Hey!" he added, looking at Lorne.

"Gotta say, Blue eyes, you're the strangest vampire I've come across, not including Angelcakes here."

"Oh, now I want to stay," Cordelia said.

"Can't, honey, you know that. This is for him, and in this case for Angel. Who under this unique circumstance can stay."

"But then we will not know if there is evil to fight," the Groosalug said.

"Don't worry, I'll pry it out of Angel later," Cordelia said to Groo as she walked with him towards the door.

"No you won't!" Spike yelled in her direction, but Cordelia was almost out the door and ignored him. Suddenly not so sure he wanted Angel to hear his secrets, Spike gave Lorne a worried look.

"Did you tell him?" the green demon asked Spike.

"Tell him what? About Buffy? Didn't really have to."

"No. About your plans, Sweet Cheeks? About what you intend to do for him?"

A venomous scowl preceded the response. "My name is Spike. And no, I haven't told him yet."

"Don't you think it's time you did?"

"Tell me what?" Angel asked. A concerned expression crossed his face, and his eyes showed suspicion.

"Was working up to it. He has to believe me first. 'bout what I'm telling him. 'bout the chip and Buffy."

"I can assure him about the chip," Lorne said as he turned to Angel. "It's in there alright. Tiny little bugger, but it packs quite the wallop. It hasn't had too much to do in the last few months thought, has it?"

Spike looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Not sure I know what you mean."

"I mean that you've gotten used to it. You don't test it much anymore. There was that one incident, but you really weren't that mad when it turned out the chip was fine. I believe you said something about her having something wrong with her, not you." A raised eyebrow accompanied his statement.

"Didn't mean it that way. 'S not natural, this." He pointed to his head.

"No it isn't," Lorne agreed. "But you are unusual all by yourself, Blondie... er, Spike," he amended. He ducked his head slightly. "Okay this is gonna be a little painful. Not as bad as when I did this with Cordelia and flew across the room but..."

"What are you gonna do?" Spike took a step back and eyed Lorne suspiciously.

"You want to convince Angel your feelings are genuine. Well, we're gonna relive some. You and me."

"Don't want you in my bloody head..." Spike started to object, but Lorne reached out and placed his hands on either side of the vampire's forehead before he could finish his tirade. Some light flared from his green-skinned fingers and Spike's eyes went wide for a moment as some sort of connection was established between them. At the barest level of detection, an almost thrumming vibration rose and subsided. Then Lorne started speaking.

"The weapons are in the chest over by the TV. I'll grab the stuff upstairs.

Spike replied easily, the scene vividly coming into his memory. "Uh, Buffy... if you want to just hand them over the threshold..." Despite Lorne's contact with his head, Spike still moved slightly, his hand gestures punctuating his words. Angel watched in fascination. He'd never seen his friend do this before.

Lorne continued with his role. "Come in, Spike."

Spike continued as well, completely involved in his memory and oblivious to his surroundings. "Hm, Presto. No barrier." A pause followed and an expression Angel couldn't entirely recognize. Gratitude came closest. He could almost imagine the scene the two were playing out in front of him. "Um, we won't bother with the small stuff. A couple of axes should hold off Glory's mates while you take on the lady herself."

"We aren't all going to make it, you know?"

"Yeah. Always knew I'd go down fighting."

The slight hitch in his voice and the look in his eyes told Angel that Spike hadn't been joking in his belief that he might die.

Lorne's tone was equally somber. "I'm counting on you. To protect her."

"'til the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight."

Angel heard the emotion in his voice, the seriousness of Spike's promise.

"I'll be a minute," Lorne responded.

Spike's face twitched and he grimaced before returning to the replay of his memories. "I know you'll never love me. I know I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man and that's... Go get your stuff. I'll be here."

Spike closed his eyes and panted a bit, but Lorne didn't break the contact between them. There was a slight shifting in the air, the thrumming returning for a moment, and somehow Angel knew this was a different memory now.

Lorne began speaking. "Well, what do you know? It's just about that time."

Angel could tell by the menacing tone of his friend's voice that he was no longer playing Buffy. This appeared to be a much different character.

"Doesn't a fella stay dead when you kill 'em?"

Spike's tone was different as well. Gone was the gentle, emotion-laced voice of the previous scene. It now carried an edge, a slight desperation that might go unnoticed by someone who didn't know him as well as Angel did.

"Look who's talking?"

"Come on, Doc. Let's you and me have a go."

Spike's shoulder movement and body language told Angel that this was a confrontation.

Lorne's character was cool, detached. "I, ah, do have a prior engagement."

"This won't take long."

"No, I don't imagine it will."

Spike's body jerked and he let out a strangled yell. Then his face became determined, his breath coming in unneeded pants. "You don't come near the girl, Doc."

"I don't smell a soul anywhere on you. Why do you even care?"

"I made a promise to a lady."

"Oh?" A pause accompanied by jerky movements. "Then I'll send the lady your regrets."

The look that came over Spike's face then almost broke Angel's heart. He could only guess that the girl Spike spoke of was Dawn. That would explain the utter horror and desperation reflected in the blue eyes as he pleadingly said, "No." And then he screamed.

Spike closed his eyes again and his face twisted a little. Neither Lorne nor Spike moved for a moment, but then Spike's eyes flew open. A look of disbelief crossed his features before they crumpled into anguish. His hands moved to cover his face, and he sobbed.

Lorne let the contact break as Spike fell to his knees and continued crying pitifully. The green demon looked at Angel, tears in his eyes. "There was..." he cleared his throat. "There was going to be one more scene, but I think he's had enough." He shrugged, waiting a moment while the vampire sobbed before adding apologetically, "He'd relived that one so many times I didn't think it would be so raw when I saw it flash briefly during his reading."

"I'm bloody right here," Spike ground out through gritted teeth, adding, "you poncy bastard." He wiped fiercely at his tear stained cheeks.

"What was that?" Angel asked Lorne. "Was it... Buffy?" He sounded slightly disbelieving.

Lorne nodded softly. "Well first in that last scene, it was a young girl named Dawn. The last was Buf..."

Spike suddenly leaped from his knees and grabbed Lorne by the lapels. "Don't you ever," he growled. "How could you do that to me?" His voice was still choked with emotion.

"I felt I had to. Angel had to see."

"Did it have to be that? Couldn't it have been..."

"Don't you think it's time you stopped blaming yourself, Spike?"

Spike released him with a snarl. "You don't know a thing. She counted on me to protect Dawn! If I'd a done that..."

"You weren't the only one there that night," Lorne interrupted him. "There were others on that doomed mission. And doomed it was. Did you ever stop to think that it was meant to be? That the powers had that planned all along?"

Spike shook his head. "No. It was my fault. My fault she had to die, and my fault that she's unhappy now."

Lorne gave him a sly smile. "Because you were the one that tore her out of heaven, brought her back to life to claw her way out of her coffin..."

"I had nothing to do with that!"

"My point exactly," Lorne said. "Why do you think it was you she wanted to be with when she came back? You understood. Even that first night. You were the one that held her bleeding hands and told her you knew what it was like to claw your way out of your own coffin. You knew she needed time. Time to just be. No expectations. You gave her all you could, Spike. You're a vampire after all. What more could anyone ask of you?"

Spike snorted bitterly. "It wasn't enough."

"Didn't say you were perfect," Lorne told him with a smirk. "You did help in the train wreck that followed between the two of you. I'm just letting you know that you weren't the only one to blame, Spike. There's plenty to go around. You're the one here now, trying to do something for her."

"Yeah, but if I'd kept my promise..."

"Because after Buffy died, you skipped town and left all those bad memories behind you."

"I didn't leave," Spike corrected him. "I stayed and took care of Dawn." He exhaled and rolled his eyes. "I get it. I stayed so you think I kept my promise. It's not as simple as that."

"It never is. What would have happened if Buffy hadn't figured out she could sacrifice herself? Would she have thrown Dawn in the portal to save the world?"

Spike stared at him. "She's a bloody hero, but they couldn't expect her to..."

"And that's what she said that night. That she would do whatever she had to to protect Dawn, isn't it?"

Spike nodded softly. "Said the last thing Dawn would see was Buffy protecting her, but...

Lorne interrupted him. "And that's why Buffy told you that she depended on you to protect Dawn. Because if it came down to it, you would have stood by Buffy's side, protecting Dawn while the world ended around you, if that was the way Buffy wanted it to be." He looked directly into Spike's eyes. "Because Buffy knew the last thing **she** would've seen was **you** protecting her."

"Bloody right," Spike said softly, his voice a little raspy. "I would've done anything she wanted." He looked away from Lorne's intense gaze, and shook his head. "How did I let it all go so wrong? When did I become so bloody selfish again?"

Lorne sighed. "Sometimes things happen, Spike. We can't always make the right choice. It's not in our nature. And you know it's not in yours. That's why you're here. That's why you want to do this. So you won't make so many more wrong choices." His gaze moved to Angel. "I think it's time you explain to Angel what you intend to do."

Spike looked at his dark-haired rival, not expecting to see the surprise in his brown eyes. Somehow he knew that Angel believed in his love for Buffy, and he had Lorne to thank for that. Maybe later. Right now he had something else he had to do. "Angel," Spike began solemnly, "there's a small problem with the spell to fix the curse..."

TBC


	10. Of Demons and Men

**Chapter 9: Of Demons and Men **

Spike watched Angel's mouth gape slightly and his eyebrows raise enough to rival his hair. He'd seen this expression before, very recently, on Tara's face just before she said...

"Are you crazy?" Yup that was it. Well, close enough anyway.

This time Spike had a nicely planned answer, one that was at least mostly truthful and likely much safer than telling Angel the real reason he was doing this. Besides mostly truthful was still pretty good, considering. He was a vampire after all. "'m not crazy. And, yeah, before you ask, I know what it means. I've got to do this, though."

"Why, Spike? Why would you be willing to do this?" Angel looked truly concerned.

"Lots of reasons. The first being that I love her. Second, as your green demon said, it will keep me from making so many wrong choices."_ That's close enough to the truth_, Spike thought. Third, I have issues with Angelus and would love to get rid of him. And lastly, I love her."

"You said that one already," Angel pointed out.

"Yeah, but I thought it should count as two."

Angel smiled a little at that. "I guess it should." He sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not sure you're ready for this. Having a soul isn't easy. Not a day goes by that it doesn't hurt." His eyes probed Spike, searching for more.

Damn, he was going to have to tell the truth. He exhaled. "I understand pain. I had 147 days of it this past summer." Angel opened his mouth, but Spike stopped him, with a raised hand. "But it would be worse..." He closed his eyes and let his hand fall back to his side. "It would be worse if I hurt her. Really hurt her. I'd never forgive myself."

Angel growled low in his throat as he figured out Spike's meaning.

Even though he was expecting that response, for some reason it made Spike angry. When he opened his eyes they showed fire. "Oh, come on now. I've bloody tried. Do you know how hard it is? How frustrating? I've been trying for over a year, and still..."

As Angel's growl stopped, he nodded softly. "Yes, I do know how hard it is. I'm surprised you can even do it at all." After contemplating him a moment, Angel's expression became one of resignation. "And if you really want to do this, then... I'll try to help you through it as best I can."

Spike nodded. "That's all I ask. Well, I do have one more request."

Angel raised his eyebrows. "Which is?"

He suddenly looked down sheepishly. "Um, If you could go back to Sunnydale at least one day a month..."

"I hope to go more than that," Angel interrupted.

Spike looked at him. "...to spend a day with Dawn." He tried not to look embarrassed.

Angel considered teasing him about the request, because it would be so easy. And likely fun. But after looking at his hopeful face, he couldn't. By asking, Spike was letting himself be vulnerable in front of him. Angelus had crushed him too many times in similar situations. He couldn't do that to him now.

"I can't not go back to see her," Spike was continuing. "She's had too many men in her life leave her and..."

Angel put a hand on his shoulder. "I promise."

Spike nodded. "Good." He took a breath and squared his shoulders. "I think I'd like to get some rest. It's been a bugger of a week."

Angel led him upstairs and showed him to a room. "We'll talk some more tomorrow." Spike just nodded and closed the door.

Alone with his thoughts, Spike let out a rush of air he didn't need. That had gone more smoothly than he'd hoped. He had worried that Angel might be wary of giving up his inner demon and accepting him instead. Strange that he hadn't been. Almost as strange as the fact that he'd rather be a demon for Angel than for the William whose body he inhabited and whose memories he shared. He guessed that he and his grandsire each had a part of themselves that they didn't like. Those parts just happened to be different.

As his thoughts began to drift into unsettling territory, such as would his own personality be lost when he merged, Spike decided to distract himself by getting ready for bed. Too late to turn back now anyway. He lay on the bed with his back against the headboard, not bothering to get undressed or slide under the covers. He wasn't ready to be comfortable here. This wasn't his crypt. It wasn't home - yet. Gazing around the room at the old-fashioned decor, he snorted. What else could he have expected from his grandsire? Though that peach-colored lamp with the little fringes on it? That just had to be the green demon's doing. Not even Angel's tastes were that poncy. Shaking his head, Spike turned out the light, laid his head on the pillow, and waited for sleep to come.

When Angel descended the stairs, Lorne was waiting for him.

"Did he explain everything?" the green demon asked.

Angel nodded. "But I'm not sure I'll ever understand it. He's a vampire. That's not the kind of demon that would willingly take on the burden he's planning on taking."

"He's unusual as I said. And he's trying hard not to lose the fight."

"Spike mentioned that it was difficult."

"You don't know the half of it," Lorne said. "The emotions raging in that boy sometimes threaten to tear him apart."

"He always was passionate, impulsive," Angel agreed. "And as usual, I'm not sure he's ready for what he's getting himself into."

"Probably not," Lorne agreed. "But he wants to do it. He feels he has to do it. That much I did see. My readings never lie." Lorne shook his head a little. "Though the remorse was unexpected. I've read vampires before, and not including you, I've never seen so much guilt in one."

"Remorse?" It wasn't an emotion Angel had ever associated with Spike before. Unless it was a fleeting twinge for snapping at Drusilla.

"It was definitely there. He really did blame himself for Buffy's death even though he tried to prevent it. If not for his promise and the little girl, I'm not sure he would have made it through the summer."

"He really loves Buffy that much?"

"I'm afraid so."

"No, that's good, because he's going to need it." Angel knew that more than anyone. Defeating Angelus wasn't going to be easy. Neither would surviving the remorse the soul would cause. He might feel it for Buffy now, but the guilt that came from causing so many deaths was an entirely different kind of pain. Angel knew Spike would need his love if he ever hoped to survive it.

*********

Gnash smiled at his new toy. He took the amulet Spike had recently acquired for him and placed it around the statue's neck. After incanting a few words, he waited impatiently, gazing into the large eyes of the odd bust. He snorted when nothing seemed to happen. Infuriating legends: one never could be too sure which were real and which were only myth. He opened his toothy mouth to try again, but stopped as a light started to shimmer in the statue's eyes.

He rubbed his hands together. "Well what do you know? You were just a little rusty," he said to the bronze monstrosity. This would make things so much easier. Now he could spy on others without having to actually travel to where they were. "Hmm, who to check up on first?" he asked no one in particular. As the answer came to him, his smile widened. _Of course. There was a certain traitorous vampire who should soon be bringing Angelus back into play. If he hadn't done so already. Gnash had wanted be a fly on the wall to see that. And now he had the chance. As long as the delay to find the statue hadn't made him miss it, that is. Taking a breath to calm his excitement, the demon said the words that would give him a window on Spike and hopefully let him see how his plan was progressing._

When the scene coalesced, the smile soon disappeared from the demon's lips. He listened as Spike explained to Angel how he intended to get around the problem with the spell. Gnash's carefully planned spell. "How did he find out?" The demon felt rage and a desire to wreak bloody revenge on the vampire, but he knew Spike was out of reach unless he went there and that... well, that wasn't his way. He didn't get directly involved. That was for other demons, lesser demons. His roar of frustration almost made him miss the sudden appearance of the odd woman in his room.

"I'm the demon Anyanka here to help you in your quest for vengeance," the woman intoned with little enthusiasm and an expression even more bland. If that was even possible.

Staring at her in confusion, the rage fizzling from him like a candle flame being snuffed out with wet fingers, Gnash was speechless. The woman, however, gave him no time to recover before her entire attitude changed abruptly.

"What the hell! You're not a woman. And you're a demon." She looked around his home. "A demon who does magic, and therefore doesn't need me." She placed her hands on her hips, somehow making the mundane gesture seem intimidating. "Are you deliberately trying to waste my time, because I do have a shop to run?"

Gnash wrinkled his leathery brow. "I didn't mean to." He hadn't called a vengeance demon, had he? Sometimes the ever present magic that was part of him did have unexpected consequences.

The woman threw her hands up and then let them slap against her skirt-clad thighs. "Oh, sure men never **mean** to. They make it seem like they're being nice by letting you do it. 'Do it however you want, Honey.' Then they never even consider telling you otherwise until it's much too late. So they chicken out instead, but you've already made all the plans and preparations, so instead you look like the idiot while he's off somewhere tra la la." She looked at him with contempt. "Well don't look at me. Do your own stupid vengeance!"

Before Gnash could even breathe, she had vanished. He'd never seen a more confusing or irritating woman. He should have zapped that demon where she stood for talking to him like that. At least he should have, but all he could do was smile. What a woman. He could think about that one all the rest of the night. Turning to the statue, a smirk still on his face, he chanted the words to put the spell to sleep. Revenge could wait until tomorrow.

*********

Anger. Humiliation. He still felt it even now, a day later. It wouldn't let him sleep. Warren wasn't sure how that bitch had known about the orbs, but in one moment she had undone so much of his careful work and planning. No matter what he seemed to do, somehow she always seemed to mess up everything. God, he missed Andrew right now. If Andrew were here, Warren was sure he could talk the skinny nerd into helping him get rid of the Slayer.

He sighed. Maybe he was trying too hard. Maybe it was time for something simpler. Dead was dead, no matter how someone got that way. Buffy might be strong, but she wasn't Superman. At the thought, an evil smile crossed his lips. No, she wasn't Superman. Her body wasn't impervious, she wasn't faster than a speeding bullet, and he didn't even need kryptonite. Opening a desk drawer, Warren let his hand slide over the cool metal of the handgun that lay inside. Fine. A bullet it would be.

Except... he didn't have any bullets. He double-checked all the drawers just to be sure, and then yelling in frustration at the ceiling, he made himself a promise. Tomorrow he would have them. And tomorrow the Slayer would die.

*********

Across town, Willow turned in her sleep, waking herself. She looked around a moment, but couldn't discern any reason her rest had been disturbed. Tara's sleeping form distracted her half-hearted investigation, making her suddenly glad she had woken. As she took in the tangle of hair covering the pillow, the slightly parted lips, and the peaceful expression of the woman beside her, Willow smiled. Tara was finally getting some well-needed rest.

Her lover had been so affected by their visit to Spike's earlier that day; it had tugged at Willow's heart. She had the feeling that Tara and Spike had perhaps gotten closer over the past few days as they worked together on the spell. Tara was so caring; she could see the potential for good in almost anyone. Even a vampire named Spike.

Gently touching a lock of the golden hair beside her, Willow took a measured breath. She would make sure the spell went okay. Even if she couldn't do the magic herself, her experience would allow her to give Tara some excellent guidance. And maybe Buffy could finally have some happiness again in her life. Willow's smile wavered as she ignored the whisperings of her conscience, the ones that told her Buffy wouldn't need cheering up if it wasn't for her, the ones that chided her for missing Buffy's pain so that her friend had to turn to a vampire for solace instead. She shivered and curled herself closer to Tara, taking comfort in the warmth of her form and the soothing nature of her scent. They would make it better for Buffy. They just had to.

*********

Gnash gazed into the eyes of the bronze statue and found the scene had changed little from earlier that day. After a pleasant night of contemplating the strange woman demon that had visited him and her parting words "Do your own stupid vengeance," Gnash had decided to try doing just that. Spike had been asleep, however, as had the vampire Angel, so the demon had spent the rest of the waning morning using his new toy to spy on others of interest. Now as afternoon set in, Spike still slept - the lazy creature - and Angel had just woken. Deciding not to let that deter him, Gnash decided he'd look in on some of the other potential players in his little scheme.

The demon watched the Slayer and her sister leave their home, and would likely have followed their progress if something moving in the backyard hadn't caught his eye. It moved clumsily and with no stealth, and after watching a little longer, Gnash recognized that it was a human male. The frustration and anxiety etched in the man's facial expressions and body movements seemed almost palpable. Gnash rubbed his hands in anticipation. This human was definitely up to no good. What an interesting place to start.

*********

Buffy felt content. And she still rode a high from having put a stop to Warren's little power trip two days ago. Sure, in a few hours or so it might get a little boring, but then again, she could live with a little boring right now. Besides, there was always patrolling later on that night if she needed a little excitement. So here she sat with a hot fudge sundae. Okay, so it had frozen yogurt instead of ice cream. There was still fudge. And nuts. Even a little whip cream. That meant it still counted as a hot fudge sundae. Nodding in satisfaction, she took a bite, savoring the taste while she waited for Dawn to come join her with her... what was that?

"That's not a hot fudge sundae."

"Very observant of you," Dawn retorted with a smug smile.

"You were supposed to be getting a hot fudge sundae," Buffy complained, adding a big sister pout. "The calories are only guilt-free if you get one too."

Dawn smiled in satisfaction. "I decided on this instead." She scooped a few bites of ice cream out of a tall glass and into her mouth, savoring the taste, before she used the spoon to mix the rest vigorously.

"And 'this' is?" Buffy prompted.

"A root beer float," Dawn told her before she took a sip, letting the froth get on her lips then licking it off.

Buffy caught the look in her sister's eyes and knew there was more to this than Dawn was telling. Her sister had one of those secret smiles that came from a memory you hesitated to share, because half the fun came from it being yours alone. At least for a little while. Taking another bite of her sundae, Buffy smiled at her sister. "I didn't know you liked root beer floats."

Dawn took another sip, closing her eyes briefly as she swallowed. She smiled warmly back at Buffy. "Oh I do, but a friend recently reminded me just how good they are."

Buffy was itching to know, but she wouldn't ask. She didn't want to do anything to break this spell, this moment of shared happiness. So she'd let Dawn have her secret for a while. That's what big sisters did.

*********

Warren crept along the backyard of Buffy's home on Revello Drive for a moment before deciding he shouldn't have to skulk along. He had bullets in his gun now, and he would show Buffy just how dangerous he could be. Striding with more purpose, he walked up to the door and knocked. She would open the door even if she did see him through the window, that's how overconfident she was. Hah. Thought she had stopped him, had she? Well she'd learn soon enough. As Warren waited, he became angrier. _Open the door, bitch_, he thought, and began pounding insistently. Nothing. After circling the house, looking in all the windows, Warren noted that the TV was off, and no lights were on. He let out a short barking yell of anger. Just like a woman nowadays. They never stayed home where they belonged anymore. Well, he'd just go in and wait.

Warren was so involved in his new plan to break a back window and creep in, he didn't notice the demon that had materialized beside him until it cleared its throat.

"There's a much more subtle and satisfying way to do this, you know."

Warren jumped then froze. He couldn't will his body to flee from the terrifying monster beside him. If only he still had his orbs, if only… He raised a shaking hand, pointing the gun in the demon's direction.

Warren watched the demon's eyes take in the gun for only a moment before pointedly ignoring it. It smiled at him chillingly. "Now, now. No need for violence." A talloned hand landed on his shoulder in a parody of familiarity. "If we work together it will be much less messy. For you," the demon added pointedly. Cold, black eyes stared into his. "What do you say?"


	11. Alliances

**Chapter 10: Alliances **

Warren was proud of himself. He'd actually managed to stop shaking. Taking measured breaths, he looked around the strange dwelling with as much furtiveness as he could muster and tried not to let it sink in that he was in the lair of a demon. Not just any demon either, but a large, scary one who was obviously proficient at magic. Said demon wasn't paying him any mind at the moment, but Warren had no doubt that it would know if he tried to escape. Sure the monster had asked him "what do you say", but Warren knew a rhetorical question when he heard it. Okay, technically he supposed it could be a choice, if a bloody and likely painful death could've been considered an option, but he wasn't ready for such an end to his existence just yet.

Finally the demon turned black, cold eyes in his direction. "Water?" His odd host asked him, and surprisingly, his talloned hand held a glass of water.

Nodding and reaching carefully to accept the glass, Warren managed to keep his hand steady. He took a deep breath as the demon placed his gun on the table.

"You were going to kill the Slayer with this," he stated, his tone suggesting he wasn't expecting Warren to answer. "Well I can't let you do that. I have a rather involved plan in motion, and if you kill the Slayer, then the motivation for the vampire will be gone. He will have no reason to do the spell that is the focal point of my plan."

"Vampire?" Warren heard himself ask. What on earth made him do that? Keep it simple. Don't engage the demon, and maybe it would let him go. That had been the plan.

"Yes. Spike. I have plans for him. And the Slayer. Though now that he is aware of my little deceit, I will need help to salvage the situation. That is where you come in, my boy. What is your name, anyway?"

"Warren."

"Well, Warren," he purred, "My name is Gnash. Let me tell you what we are going to do."

*********

Spike roared down the highway on his motorcycle, relishing the feeling of the wind in his hair. He effortlessly avoided the cars, his vampire reflexes making the task simple. The freedom almost made him forget the Desoto. The better gas mileage didn't hurt either.

As soon as the sun had set, he and Angel had decided to take both the bike and the convertible. That way, Spike had reasoned, the bike could remain in Sunnydale while the car went back to L.A. once the spell was complete. Who knows? Maybe he could teach Buffy to ride the motorcycle. Well that job would likely be Angel's now, wouldn't it? He wasn't sure Angel would see the obvious appeal of a Slayer on a cool motorbike, but well, then his grandsire was sort of on the stuffy side. Perhaps the Big Bad could provide some influence, even if only a background one.

Spike tried not to frown at the thought. He had broken down earlier that afternoon and asked Angel whether he minded him taking his demon's place. He'd managed to fall asleep the night before, but the lingering thought greeted him when he awoke the next afternoon, and he had to ask. Anxiously Spike had waited for the answer, worried the question might make Angel change his mind. It hadn't. Angel assured him that he held no sentimental attachments to the creature that had done so much harm, especially to the people he cared about. Spike nodded, satisfied, and assured Angel he had no sentimental attachments to the man that had been William the Bloody awful poet and certainly wouldn't want him taking over. "That ponce would be of no help to Buffy," he'd told him. "She has the Scoobies for research."

As if he could outrun his own thoughts, Spike sped up to pass a car. The greeting from the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign couldn't come quick enough for him, and when he reached home, he hoped that the witches were well on their way to gathering all the necessary items for the spell. He was going to need all the energy he had just to keep it together enough to get this thing done. Spike couldn't wait for it to be over. Although he supposed the showdown with Angelus would be satisfying. Any thoughts that Angelus might defeat him were kept on the periphery. That wasn't an option. Besides he had a good reason to win. Whereas Angelus had only hate and rage, Spike had the best reasons of all. He had Buffy and Dawn. If that wasn't reason enough, he didn't know what was.

*********

The next morning found Buffy in amazingly good spirits, still happy from her previous afternoon's visit to the ice cream parlor with Dawn. She could feel her body energized from her first good night of sleep in a long while. Or maybe it was a lingering sugar rush. The thought of sugar brought on minor guilt as the memory of a rather large and tasty ice cream sundae reared its head. Cereal, fruit and orange juice were definitely on the menu for breakfast this morning.

She yawned as she stretched, finally throwing the covers back. At least it was Sunday, meaning no work for her, but definite homework for Dawn. This little twist of fate usually left the television remote legitimately in her hands. Of course that would only be for the afternoon. A major patrol was on the menu for tonight, a consequence of her having done only a cursory sweep the previous evening, but in a way, she was looking forward to patrol. Although she had to admit, it wasn't as much fun as it had been in the past. There was no denying she missed patrolling with Spike, or at least she missed it before things got so complicated. Buffy shook her head - no thinking about the annoying vampire right now. That was a sure-fire way to make her mood turn gloomy. Throwing on her comfy robe, she bypassed the bathroom, deciding that breakfast would come first this morning. Her shower could wait just this once.

Downstairs, her plans for breakfast were already going awry as she watched Dawn pour the last of the milk into a bowl of cocoa puffs. Buffy silenced her mental "grr", deciding that yogurt would do nicely, and hey, it already contained fruit, so no need to do any extra slicing. She poked her head in the refrigerator; her gaze falling on the empty place where she knew the yogurt had been yesterday. Sure enough, an inspection of the trash revealed a discarded yogurt cup. _Okay_, she thought, _note to self - either hide the yogurt or don't be the last one up on shopping day_.

Dawn must have noticed her plight, because she turned a sheepish look in her direction. "You want some of my cereal?"

"I think I reached my sugar quota for the weekend yesterday, but thank you." She fished the bread off the counter and noted the two sad heels that were left in the package. As she plopped them into the toaster, she sighed and raised her eyes skyward. "Now you're just trying to piss me off, but I'm not gonna let you."

"Having conversations with imaginary people?" Dawn asked snidely.

"Pretty close," Buffy retorted back, giving her sister a meaningful glance.

Dawn snorted. At one point in time, such a comment might have gotten a rise out of the younger Summers, but not anymore. Dawn was definitely growing up. "Well, at least an imaginary someone might find what you have to say interesting."

Grinning into the refrigerator, Buffy took out the margarine spread, noting happily that at least **that** wasn't empty. The same could barely be said of the orange juice. She took the carton out, intending to drink it straight from the container. Hey if there was only a little left, and she was going to finish it, no need to dirty a glass. Buffy put it almost defiantly on the counter, daring Dawn to question her manners, but again her sister didn't take the bait. She'd make sure to gulp it loudly in that case. The plan amused her as she buttered her sad toast.

Dawn obviously saw the grin. "Why do you look all serial killer all of a sudden?"

Buffy just smiled more broadly and took a loud gulp of the orange juice.

"Eeww, pig much," Dawn exclaimed.

Buffy kept herself from laughing with difficulty, because having juice up her nose had not been part of the plan, but as she extended the juice container to Dawn and asked, "why did you want some?" she had to giggle.

"No, thank you. Geez, and I thought Spike had horrendous eating habits."

Not even that little reminder of Spike could cause Buffy to stop giggling. Besides, it was likely a comment that came from Dawn's summer spent with the vampire. Buffy had to admit, from what she had heard, Spike had kept that part of his promise to look after Dawn. She put down the juice and took a bite of toast. "No one else's eating habits could be that bad. Spike thinks flowery onion things and beer are two of the basic food groups."

"And spicy chicken wings," Dawn added with a smile. "And you wouldn't believe what he does with them either."

"So not falling for that bait," Buffy said. "This toast is almost enough in itself to make me lose my appetite." It was a miracle she had almost finished choking the bland stuff down.

The door opened and Anya came in without the pretense of knocking. "I saw a Kunthar demon late last night. You may want to go get it tonight. That breed can cause a lot of damage rather quickly if it decides it's hungry. Or horny."

Dawn almost spit her mouthful of cocoa puffs. Buffy looked skyward again. "Couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"Is she having conversations with imaginary people?" Anya asked. "Because that would be disturbing and inappropriate."

Dawn shrugged, "I already asked that question. The jury's still out on that."

Buffy sighed and threw the remains of her toast in the trash. No television today. "Guess I better research this Kunthar demon, huh?" So much for her lazy Sunday.

*********

"Here, it's all I've got."

Angel took the cold glass of blood Spike offered him, sniffing it before he gulped it down. Spike crumbled some burba weed in his own before doing the same.

They had spent the afternoon resting in Spike's crypt. He had insisted they stay there in case the witches needed to get a hold of him, rejecting the idea of staying at the mansion. They couldn't tell the witches in person that they had changed residences, Spike had explained, because he didn't want to take the chance of Buffy finding out about Angel until they were sure that the spell was a certainty. Angel had a suspicion that there was more to it than that.

"Pig's blood, Spike? Wouldn't have thought you'd go that route."

Spike scoffed. "What, didn't think I could?"

"More like I didn't think you would."

"No reason to tempt myself. Why torture myself with what I can't have? Don't know how you can stand to do it."

"Your chip only fires if you bite, right? Bagged blood shouldn't…"

"I'm around these people often enough, don't need to see them as food." He almost grumbled the last part.

Angel stared at him for a moment until it finally dawned on him. His tone reflecting his stunned expression, he said, "You'd be afraid you'd bite her. You haven't, right?" His tone was menacing.

"Course I haven't bloody bitten her. She'd stake me on the spot."

Angel shook his head; his expression letting the younger vamp know that they both knew it was a lie. In a moment of passion, Spike could have his fangs in her neck before she even knew what was happening. And Angel knew well enough that in such a moment, she was unlikely to object. He shook his head. "How do you do it, Spike? How do you restrain yourself?"

"It's easy, mate," Spike said, but he didn't keep eye contact.

"No, it's not. It's not easy at all." Angel's rough voice held a hint of reverence that made the younger man meet his gaze. "You really do love her."

"Wouldn't be doing this if I didn't, you git."

"No. I guess you wouldn't."

Suddenly putting down his mug, Spike looked at Angel, his expression shifting to full alert.

"What?" Angel asked. He didn't sense any demons in the vicinity.

"Bloody hell," was the answer. "Have to get you out of sight."

Spike rushed over and removed the barrier covering the hole to the second level. "Down there, and be quiet. She can't know you're here." Gesturing frantically, he urged him down the hole and covered it mostly over, leaving only a small space for Angel to put his hands through and shove the barrier later.

Angel could hear Spike practically running to the other side of his crypt and opening something, and then the telltale rummage of weapons. From his position on the ladder, he sensed her just as the door slammed open.

"Spike!" called the familiar voice. Angel could hear Buffy enter without reservation. "I know you're here."

There was quiet for a moment, marred only by Buffy's measured breathing.

Then Spike broke it. "Still haven't learned to knock, have you, Slayer?"

"The subtlety of it would be lost on you, Spike."

"Maybe. What d'you need?" His voice was tinged with innuendo, but not as strongly as was his usual, Angel knew.

"Stop that. I told you I'm not sleeping with you anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, got that memo. I'm evil. I'm dirt. You were only using me. That about cover it?"

"Look, I care. I just can't..."

Spike interrupted. "'Sides, our sex-life might've been imaginative, Slayer, but I don't recall heavy weaponry being involved."

"Why are you holding a battle axe?" she asked as if she had just noticed it.

"Well, you're here. There are generally two reasons for that. Since shagging's out, I assumed there's trouble."

"Well, okay, yeah but..." She gave an exasperated sigh. "You are such a..."

"Pig, asshole, evil soulless-thing..."

Angel heard the punch from the ladder.

"Ow! Would you quit it with the nose already? And I thought you said there wasn't going to be any..." Spike's tone was suggestive. His eyebrows were no doubt wagging.

_Oh, now he's just asking for it_, Angel thought.

"Oh, there's not," Buffy said with false sweetness. "Doesn't mean I can't hurt you a little."

"You always did like that almost as much, pet, and I'd love to have a go. I'd even let you do all the manhandling, but... the reason you came? Don't we have some nasty that needs killing?"

"Yes," she answered, and Angel imagined he could hear her teeth gritting. "Are you gonna help or not?"

"Let's go," Spike answered. "I'm ready to get my hands on **something** tonight... Hey!"

"Didn't touch the nose," Buffy said sweetly.

"You know, you can be a right bitch when you want to, Slayer." Somehow he didn't sound deterred by it. More intrigued. Or reverent.

"Part of the job description."

Staying on the ladder until he heard the door close, Angel pushed the barrier aside and came up from below. After waiting a moment, he followed the pair out into the night. Trailing the couple quietly, Angel watched them walk through the cemetery. They were close enough to touch, but not in actual contact. Spike remained just a step behind, smirking in amusement at Buffy's obvious irritation. When she turned to him, he feigned innocence and tilted his head in attention.

"It's a Kunthar demon," she told him.

"Really. I haven't seen one of those in ages. Nasty buggers."

She faced forward again. "Yeah, hence the reason you're here. Maybe you could let it eat you, get it full and lethargic so I could kill it more easily."

"Kunthar demons only eat the living, love," he replied in all seriousness. "Guess you'll have to let it…" but he stopped short as she turned on him, her eyes narrowed and fierce.

"I told you not to call me that."

Spike sniffed. "Sorry." His tone and expression were genuine, and somehow that seemed to make her more irritated, as if she hadn't expected that response and now had no recourse but to accept it.

She exhaled loudly. "Just pay attention."

He nodded, his posture changing as he attuned himself to his surroundings, and it seemed to cause a reaction. He touched Buffy's arm only a moment after she turned around, but Angel noted that she didn't retaliate. Instead she pulled a stake and scanned the area. Spike set down his battleaxe against a tombstone and pulled his own stake from his duster.

"How many you figure?" Spike asked in a voice Angel had to strain to hear. He moved closer to the two, fear creeping into his body. He sensed at least a half dozen.

"Seven, maybe eight," Buffy answered. "Ready?"

"Got your back, Slayer."

Buffy nodded as the vampires emerged from behind a nearby crypt.

Clenching his fists in frustration, Angel barely restrained himself from jumping into the fray. Frustration was soon replaced by interest, however, as he watched the action unfold.

Buffy staked one of the vampires immediately. The rest took that as a warning and spread out to surround the two.

"Slayer," one growled.

"That's me," she replied, smiling. "How'd you guess? My sparkling personality?" She dodged a swing and kicked back at the vampire's partner behind her, catching him in the kneecap. "Or maybe the stake gave it away?" She held the stake out as if showing it to him. It penetrated the heart of a vampire that Spike shoved in her direction.

As his former partner exploded into dust around him, the vampire addressing her actually looked impressed for a moment. Then he lunged again. "What are you two? A frigging circus act?"

"More like a tag team," Buffy answered with a grunt as she sent him flying towards Spike with a two-booted kick to his side.

Spike's fist connected with the side of the vampire's jaw with a crunch. "Maybe that'll shut you up."

The vamp shook his head to clear it. "Spike," he growled. "Still the Slayer's lapdog, I see."

"Worse things to be." Spike looked over the vamp's shoulder, and seeing another coming, decided to end this one quickly. He aimed a sidekick to the leg of his would-be taunter, and then plunged his stake into the downed vamp. Smiling with evil satisfaction, he said "like dust." His face practically glowing with glee, he turned to the two vampires closing in. "Step up mates if you've got the stones."

"Traitor," one spat.

"Oh, I'm hurt," Spike replied with great sarcasm.

"Oh, you will be," the other said.

That second vampire turned out to be much stronger than he looked, and Angel began to worry that Spike was in trouble. Spike didn't appear to be worried, not even changing to game face until well into his scuffle. Blood marred his forehead as he finally staked the vamp that had called him traitor. The final enemy tackled him.

"Stop playing around, Spike," Buffy told him. She, too, was down to one vampire who similarly wasn't going easily.

Spike got in a few more obviously unnecessary punches before staking his last foe. Standing up, he brushed the ashes from his duster. Angel expected him to rush to Buffy's aide, but instead, morphinig back to his human face, he leaned casually against a nearby monument and took out a cigarette.

Snorting in disgust, Angel focused on Buffy's battle, now winding down. He didn't like the way Spike was watching Buffy as she fought the final vamp. There was admiration on his face, but more so, there was lust. And his former lover looked… like she was having fun. Angel wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disturbed.

Spike finished his cigarette and discarded it carelessly. Almost as if that was a signal, a blow from Buffy sent the vampire in Spike's direction. He caught the vamp by the arms, holding him still, and Angel knew Spike could have easily cracked the vamp's neck or staked him, but he only held him in place and waited for Buffy. She walked over slowly, and drove the stake into the horrified vampire's heart.

Smirking at her through the settling ashes, Spike asked, "was it good for you?"

Buffy shoved him up against the monument. Hard. "No, Spike. This is." She kissed him ferociously, and Angel practically growled. As quickly as it started though, Buffy ended it, pushing herself away. "No!"

Spike wasn't as willing to let go at first. His hands gripped her arms. "Come on, Slayer. Don't worry about it."

"I can't."

Spike held on until Buffy pushed at him forcefully and said his name in icy reprimand and warning.

Taking an unnecessary breath, Spike worked his jaw and nodded. "Right then. Come on." He slipped into fighting stance.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked.

"Neither one of us is done," Spike answered smoothly.

Angel watched as Buffy glared at him and exhaled in disgust.

"You know I'm right." He smiled like the Cheshire cat. "Come on, Slayer, you know you want to dance."

"I don't have time for this, Spike. I have to find the Kunthar demon."

Spike continued his grin, but it was more suggestive. "Perfect then. Kunthar demons are attracted to adrenaline. They can smell it a mile away." He gave her a playful leer. "Your Slayer pheromones should attract him in no time."

Buffy wrinkled her nose and lip. "You're disgusting."

Spikes eyes danced. "Well, you're the Slayer. Do something about it. Hit me."

It took a moment, but Buffy's face changed, looking almost shocked. "Oh my God… even back then… when you said that… you…"

"You just now figuring that out, pet?"

She struck, but he caught her hand and the blow that followed, and then turned her around, putting her back into his chest. In response, her foot connected with his and her head smacked into his chin. Grunting, he broke his hold and resumed his fighting stance. He smiled at her as she turned back around and almost snarled at him.

"God, I love how you look when you fight," he told her. "So full of fire. So alive."

She hit him again; looking as if she wished her fists could wipe the words away, nullify them. Begrudgingly, Angel had to agree with Spike. Buffy's eyes were fire, and her whole body thrummed with life and energy.

"No, you're the one who gets off on it," Buffy said.

Spike just smiled, getting in a blow himself that made Angel want to throttle him. "Well, yeah. Vampire," he purred. "What's your…"

"Don't you dare say it," she spat as her fist connected with his jaw. "This is so not going to end **that** way. Never again."

"But it was such a memorable night, Slayer."

Buffy's smile turned, and Angel's stomach dropped. He knew that expression, the one she wore when she felt trapped, the one that meant she was about to use words to lash out. "Yeah, it was… for you."

Angel watched Spike's face crumble. He never was good at hiding his feelings. Buffy swallowed, her lips turning a little as if she was no longer sure she wanted the result her words had wrought. Spike shook his head slightly. "Don't," he almost pleaded. "Just go…"

Buffy could barely get her throat to work. "Spike…" 

The Kunthar demon's roar startled everyone, its approach overshadowed by the intensity of the unfolding drama. The beast was huge, almost ten feet long excluding the tail, and broad with a muscular, scaly chest. It lurched forward on four powerful legs, its huge dragon muzzle full of razor sharp teeth swaying back and forth as it took in its surroundings through feral, yellow eyes. It didn't take long for the demon to focus on what it likely suspected was easy prey. It never had a chance.

Spike turned all his rage and frustration on the unsuspecting monster, rushing at it immediately with his previously discarded battleaxe. His roar rivaled that of the beast as he struck, burying the blade in its chest. The demon batted him with his head, and Spike lost his grip on the handle as he flew into a grave marker. He was up quickly, joining Buffy again as she rolled and grabbed the battleaxe. She threw it back to Spike, the vampire catching it on the run as he launched himself onto the monster's back. Buffy played distraction until he situated himself between the beast's shoulder blades. Teeth snapped the air beside her.

"Buffy!" Spike yelled. He desperately swung his battleaxe over his head and buried it in the dragon's brain. He was thrown off, landing painfully on his side, but the damage was already done. It didn't take the pair long to finish the wounded beast, Buffy using her stake, Spike using his strength and rage. The demon almost fell on Buffy as it died, but Spike tackled her to push her out of the way. Rolling off of her immediately, he lay, snarling as his broken rib throbbed, and blood soaked the side of his shirt. Sensing Buffy standing over him, Spike kept his eyes closed.

"Spike, are you hurt?"

He growled in response. "Bloody Hell, Slayer! Course I'm hurt. Never concerned you before."

"That's not…"

"Go home, Buffy. Just leave me alone."

He opened his gold eyes as she attempted to reach for him. "Don't touch me."

"Fine," she said, and turned her back on him.

Spike watched her back and her slight limp as she disappeared into the cemetery.

********* 

He was hurt, and Angel had no idea how to lessen the pain. The physical wounds he could clean and bind, and they would heal. The other wounds, the ones etched into the once again blue eyes and tensed jaw, were not so easy to fix. At least not without reopening scars of his own. He could tell Spike that he understood, but for the other man to believe him, it would mean reliving the reasons why he understood so well, and Angel was not so sure he was ready to make that sacrifice.

"Bet you enjoyed that," Spike said softly. His eyes were closed now, but that only made the hurt a little less evident.

Angel knelt on the ground beside him, and Spike opened his eyes again in response.

"I'll be alright. Been hurt much worse than this, mate."

Angel had the feeling Spike didn't just mean physically. He sighed. _Damn my instincts_, he thought. Despite the soul, or maybe because of it, he felt the need to help Spike. Angelus never had been a very nurturing sire, so maybe his guilt was making him feel this compassion. Looking at Spike, he wanted to see only an evil demon, but he didn't. He saw a beautiful, passionate creature, capable of love and deep feeling, and he understood why Angelus had so wanted to break him at times. He wanted to do just the opposite.

His dark eyebrows knitting in confusion, Spike looked at him. "Why are you looking at me like you want to kiss me or something?"

_And then the spell is broken_, Angel thought, but he couldn't help the smile breaching the corners of his mouth.

In response, Spike continued, his tone reflecting that he was feeling a little better. "'Cuz I probably couldn't stop you in my current state, but a little warning might be nice."

"Never did know when to shut your mouth, did you William?"

Spike sneered at the nickname, then made a sound of protest as Angel reached hands beneath him to lift him up. "Hey now! I don't need to be coddled." He made a half-hearted attempt to bat at Angel's hands, grunting when he jarred his wounded ribs.

"Just stay still, and let me help," Angel told him sternly, then softened his tone. "You might not get such a chance again."

Spike grunted. "What's gotten you all mother hen like all of a sudden?"

"Maybe making up for past neglects," Angel replied as he lifted him as gently as he could, feeling a little stir of pride as Spike let him without further protest and feeling a little guilt as the other man tried unsuccessfully to hide how much being moved discomforted him. With steady slow steps, Angel carried Spike back to his crypt, intending to heal at least the physical wounds. It was the least he could do for him.

TBC

Author's note: The idea that Spike has only been drinking animal's blood for a while came from his comments in the episode "Sleeper" where he says that he would remember something like the taste of human blood. The way he said it made me think that it had been a while since he had had human blood.


	12. Memories Shared and Questions Asked

**Summary:** Previously – Warren tried to kill Buffy but instead ran into Gnash who strongly suggested they work together. Buffy ate ice cream with Dawn, then had resulting guilt over breakfast. Spike and Angel talked then returned to Sunnydale where Spike and Buffy went patrolling as Angel watched.

**Chapter 11: Memories Shared and Questions Asked **

The pre-dawn air was becoming heavy with dew as Angel shakily opened the door to Spike's crypt while balancing said vampire in his arms. Even though he was sure he had jarred him, his burden didn't make any noise. _Thank goodness for vampire pride_, Angel thought. He wasn't up to hearing Spike complain right now. Sighing in relief, he entered and placed him carefully down on the strangely decorated sarcophagus that served as his bed.

Tentatively Spike sat up so Angel could tend to him, raising his hand to point, but then he groaned and thought better of it. "First aid stuff over next to the statue over there."

"You get hurt that often?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, but the stuff was more for Buffy. Though her lot doesn't let me take care of her much anymore." His expression turned bitter, and Angel guessed he was recalling a memory of such an occasion. Spike went quiet again as Angel retrieved the medical supplies.

He hadn't intended to tell Spike that he knew loving Buffy wasn't always easy. That conversation would likely open up old and best-forgotten memories. Now, though, Angel was starting to reconsider. It would at least pass the time. Besides, if he thought about it, it was likely that Spike would know all his secrets soon enough anyway if their plan worked.

With resignation, Angel raised his eyes to Spike as he arranged the needed bandages and tape. "I've seen Buffy like this before myself," he supplied.

Spike's forehead furrowed in confusion. "Like what?"

"Angry at the world. Confused."

Spike tilted his head. "Can't be like this. Being dead did this to her. Or more precisely - the bringing her back did this to her."

Angel looked at him, then cleared his throat. "I was here when she died the first time." He looked down and fussed with the bandages, amazed that the memory was still so vivid. "I couldn't do anything to save her." As he said it, Angel realized he was sharing another memory they had in common. Both of them had seen Buffy die. When he looked up, he was surprised to see compassion in Spike's eyes.

Spike sniffed. "Didn't know that, mate."

Angel nodded. "The Master bit her, then drowned her. I couldn't save her. Xander brought her back to life, but the psychological damage was done." He brought the supplies over and sat them next to Spike. Indicating a pair of scissors in his hand, he gestured to Spike's shirt. "I'm going to have to cut that."

Spike nodded and shrugged out of his duster with a grunt, letting it fall behind him on the sarcophagus. "What happened?" he asked as Angel cut the material of the T-shirt.

"Buffy came back after summer vacation changed. She treated everyone she cared about badly." He removed the cut pieces of Spike's shirt, glad that his actions allowed him to keep his eyes from the other man.

Spike snorted. "Whatever she did, she probably didn't mean it, mate."

Angel smiled at his attempt to make him feel better when he should have been gloating, but he ignored the subtle dig for more information. Distancing himself, he crossed the room to grab some candles. "Maybe not, but it hurt just the same." The uninvited memory of Buffy dancing with Xander, making him jealous, then telling him she'd moved on to the living crept into Angel's conscious. He'd momentarily forgotten how much the insult had hurt him. He didn't elaborate, but the pain must have shown involuntarily on his face, because Spike's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"She actually did something mean to you?"

Angel didn't answer, but should have known that was a mistake where Spike was concerned.

"But with you it was something more, huh? Because of what you are?" A definite smirk there.

Angel's expression darkened in response, giving the answer away. _Damn his lucky guesses_, he thought.

Spike's mouth quirked. "Never imagined that, mate. You being all soul-having and all." 

Angel sighed. As usual, Spike got the general idea without having to be told the details. He often was a pain in the ass that way. When his answer came, it came reluctantly. "She was still in a bad place. She needed closure, I guess, and I just reminded her of what happened." He moved the television, stand and all, closer and put the candles down on top of it. The candle holders banged the television a little too roughly.

"Her finding closure usually entails her beating the shit out of something," Spike mused with a smirk as he moved his arm back a little so the other man could see his injury. He seemed to be content to change the subject and quit while he was ahead.

Gladly taking the presented opportunity, Angel looked up at him and returned the smirk. "The master's bones. Why what did she beat the shit out of in your case?" He found a bottle of whiskey and soaked a cloth to clean Spike's wounds.

"Nothing at first. She tried to cope, but it was hard. She couldn't let herself be mad at who deserved it, cuz if she was, they'd find out her little secret. And that made her get mad at herself for being mad at them." Spike sighed, then grunted a little as Angel dabbed at his wounds with the alcohol-laden cloth.

"What secret?"

"Heaven?" Spike prompted. When Angel shook his head, Spike rolled his eyes. "God she didn't even tell you. I never should have kept that damn secret. Maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad."

Angel's look became cross and his tone harsh. "Spike, what are you talking about?"

"She was in Heaven, mate, or some heavenly dimension anyway, and when they brought her back they pulled her out of it, and here was like hell to her after that. I tried to help her deal with it, and we were even friends until..." He shook his head. "I tried, but I bloody wanted her so much, and once I had her I couldn't give her up. I tried to help her then in other ways. Well, sort of anyway. Ow!"

Angel looked at him sharply. "Sorry." He didn't even sound convincing to himself. He started cleaning up the wound to Spike's forehead instead. Less chance of harm there.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a bad, rude man. So what does everyone expect? 'Sides she was no picnic either. Once she started jumping my bones to take out her frustration, I went from her friend to a soulless, evil thing. Just another good excuse to beat the shit out of me."

Angel looked down at him with a smirk. "So the answer to my original question of what she beat up in this case was you, I guess."

"Hah bloody hah," Spike said. "Wasn't so funny when it took me a week to heal from one episode."

Angel looked at him with amazement, not imagining Buffy would inflict so much damage. He knew how quickly vampires usually healed, and considering that knowledge, he could only imagine the extent of the injuries. "You must have done something to her?"

"Yeah," Spike said. "Made the mistake of calling her 'my girl.'"

Stepping back to get the bandages, Angel looked down on him, memories stirred that Spike couldn't possibly know. Memories of when he had called Buffy his girl and she had replied always. He realized he was probably giving Spike an odd look.

Spike snorted. "Well not entirely. It went back farther than that. She just finally exploded. I just happened to be the unlucky bloke in her path." He shrugged. "I forgave her as always."

Angel shook his head. "You should really do something about those masochistic tendencies, William." Spike tried to object but Angel said, "shush. I gotta check that the bones are right before I bind them." He put his hands on Spikes ribs, feeling for the cracked ones and making sure they weren't too out of place. He pointedly ignored Spike's glare. Glancing down as he felt the last set of ribs, he noticed a mark just above the waist of Spike's low-cut jeans, right at the top of his hipbone. A discolored scar that likely should have faded by now. "What's this and why hasn't it faded? A scar shouldn't stay."

"None of your business," Spike snapped. He put his hand over the mark, rubbing at it roughly and mostly on impulse.

"Well that explains why it hasn't disappeared," Angel said to him. "Why would you want..." he trailed off as he noticed the shape of the mark. It looked vaguely like teeth, but not those of a demon. They were small teeth. Buffy's teeth, Angel's mind supplied. He suddenly felt sadness for Spike, wondering how long he had been keeping the mark there, trying to keep one last reminder of her with him. Probably weeks. His look softened. "So she bites, huh?"

Spike smirked. "Yeah. Just hard enough to make it hurt right." He sniffed and cocked his head. "Are you gonna put that bandage on me or stare at my chest all day?"

_Not so subtle hint received_, Angel thought, _Spike is done sharing for today_. He shook his head and started none too gently wrapping the bandage around the other man's sides, not even trying to suppress his grin at Spike's mutter of, "ow! Watch it, you git." Nope, no guilt at all.

*********

Tara placed the last of the items in a sturdy cardboard box and glanced at Willow. Willow smiled back knowingly, trying to give her lover support through her expression. They had said little in the last half hour, each contemplating the enormity of what they soon would do. Willow knew their motives likely differed. Yes, they both wanted happiness for Buffy, but she had much more guilt to assuage in that respect. For Tara, Willow knew, sympathy for Spike played a role. That and a resignation that if the spell was to be done, she be the one to do it.

Tara had told her about the little incident in the Magic Box with Anya, and Willow hadn't been the least bit surprised at the newly restored demon's willingness to do the spell with little thought for the potential harm. She guessed that pretty much came with the territory in the vengeance business. If many of the women the she wreaked vengeance for actually considered the consequences ahead of time, Anya would be very low on business. And the vengeance demon certainly didn't consider the consequences of her wishes. Willow mentally snorted. She hoped all went well. Tara had mentioned that Anya offered her help if they needed her; they only needed to give her a magical call. She dearly hoped they wouldn't need it.

The sound of tape sealing a box brought Willow out of her thoughts. With nothing left to put in the box, Tara wouldn't stall. Willow admired that about her. Her lover was always patient and careful, but once it was time, she went ahead and did what was necessary.

"Spike should be back from L.A. by now," Tara said with a glance out the Magic Box window. "He should be at his crypt at this time in the afternoon. We'll take these supplies there and go over the spell with him."

"Will we do it tonight?" Willow asked.

"Tomorrow night. The moon is better and we can be sure to rest ahead of time." Tara smiled sadly. "Besides it will give Spike a chance to get his things in order."

Willow nodded, trying to imagine what it would feel like to know it might be your last night on earth as your own person. When she shuddered, it wasn't from the breeze as she opened the door. She watched Tara go out to the car, then locked the store door behind them.

*********

When Willow knocked on the crypt door, Tara didn't know what she was expecting, but Spike's "come in" wasn't it. Willow opened the door for her and she stepped through.

"Oh," she said as she saw Angel who seemed to be similarly surprised to see her. His hair was mussed as if he had been sleeping which by all appearances he had been. On the sarcophagus. Next to Spike. "Oh," Tara repeated.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Not bloody likely." He groaned as he sat up, and Tara noticed the bandages around his middle. "Bed blown up, remember? And didn't want to make Angel, here, sleep in the chair. I would've but..." He indicated his bandage with a small movement of his head.

"Yeah, only sleeping," Angel mumbled.

"What happened?" Willow asked with a glance to Spike's bandages.

"Kunthar demon. Buffy and I killed it." He looked at his bedmate with an amused expression on his face. Angel seemed to be looking around like he wanted to flee. "We already saw you check your hair, Gel Boy, and yeah it's all messed up."

"Yes, can we hug you now?" Willow asked Angel with a large grin. "Or will you die of embarrassment?"

"If that was possible, he would've been dead years ago," Spike snarked.

"Spike," Tara admonished lightly. "Be nice."

Willow missed the lifted eyebrow he gave Tara in return, because she had made her way across the crypt to give a now standing Angel an enthusiastic hug. Then she pulled back to look him over. "So you're actually gonna do this, huh?"

"If you two say it can be done, yes," Angel replied.

"You actually want that in your head?" she teased with a jerk of her thumb in Spike's direction.

"Hey now. Now who's not being nice," Spike said to Tara with a mock pout.

"Well if you had a choice between him and Angelus..." Angel said.

"Good point," Willow replied. "No need to dig further. Though to be honest you both did try to kill me."

"But I didn't," Spike said.

"Only because your chip went off." Willow gave him a pointed scowl.

"Well, yeah, but..." He actually looked chagrinned. "But we had a nice talk after. Made you feel better."

Tara watched with interest as Willow scrunched her mouth up then grinned. "Well, yeah, I guess you did," she admitted reluctantly. "But I returned that favor when I kept you from staking yourself." She nodded, crossing her arms.

Tara cleared her throat. "Um as amusing as this is, and I think Willow has some stories to tell me later…" She smiled warmly at her girlfriend, before donning a more serious expression. "We should probably go over the spell." She put her hand on the cardboard box of magic supplies. "It's very important that we do it exactly, and I think we're going to need all afternoon to go through the details."

"When are we going to do the spell itself?" Angel asked.

"Tomorrow night," Tara answered. "That will give you this evening and tomorrow to get your things in order, Spike. Is that enough time?"

Spike looked like he was making a mental tabulation of what he had to do, and then he nodded. "I'll be ready. So, what does this spell entail?"

*********

They'd spent all afternoon going over the spell, and now Spike was restless. He left Angel to his own devices with a warning to stay away from any places Buffy might be. He would talk with her, he assured his grandsire, because that was all they needed was the two of them mucking things up by shagging before his soul was anchored in place. That comment had earned him a smack on the back of the head, but the look on Angel's face had been worth it.

Now as he was coming to Buffy's house though, Spike's confidence was starting to fray. They hadn't parted on such good terms so why would he be coming to see her? Thinking of a suitable alibi rather quickly, he felt some confidence return, proud of himself for thinking on the fly. As he reached the porch he almost lost it all again as he came face to face with her standing on the top of the stairs. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was set in a frown. She did not look happy to see him.

"What do you want, Spike?"

"Um, wanted to make sure you were alright. Saw you limpin' out of the graveyard after we fought that demon. You heal okay?"

She sighed and softened her tone a bit. "I'm fine. Slayer healing is part of the package, but you know that so..." She was looking expectantly at him.

_Damn_, he thought. He looked down. "Buffy I have a very important question to ask you."

"No, I'm not sleeping with you."

"Do you still love Angel?"

"What?" Buffy almost sputtered, obviously not expecting that. "How is that any of your business?"

Spike looked up, a fire in his eyes. "Just answer the question. I think it's not too much to ask. If you could be together… if there was no curse, would you do it?"

"Spike, why are you asking me this?"

"I need to know, Buffy. Then I won't bother you anymore."

Buffy sighed. "Angel and I live in different worlds now."

"Sod that. Shouldn't make a difference. If you love him..."

"I do love him," Buffy answered softly.

Spike smiled sadly. "See now, was that so bloody hard?" He turned and sauntered off into the darkness, leaving a very confused Buffy in his wake.

********

_Huh?_ Buffy thought. _What the Hell? And then _huh?_ again for good measure. "What was that all about?" she whispered to herself. That had to be the weirdest conversation she and Spike had ever had. Even including the one about decorating her room. She hadn't heard him even say Angel's name that she could recall since the time of Willow's botched spell. Shaking her head, Buffy decided not to think any more about the incident. It did accomplish one thing. It got Spike to leave quickly, and that was supposed to be a good thing. Then why did she feel so conflicted? God, why did her life have to be so complicated?_

*********

He'd wanted to tell her everything, but he couldn't. At least he'd found out what he needed to know. The rest he'd tell her in a note. She couldn't ask so many bleeding questions that way anyhow. It took long enough just to get one answer from her. He could only imagine how long an entire conversation explaining the intricacies of the spell and why it had to be done the way they were doing it would take. By the time he was done, if they hadn't killed each other that is, he'd be too late to do the spell. No, this was better. And if he told himself that enough times maybe he'd believe it.

He already had a plan: go home, spend some time with Angel so he wouldn't get suspicious, let him know Buffy was willing - okay so he was fudging a little on that one - then write the note. He'd deliver it tomorrow afternoon when she was at work, and Dawn was at school. Slipping through the tunnels should be easy enough. His duster would keep him from burning up during the short jaunt to her house and in her bedroom window. She should get the note just as it was happening, so maybe, technically she'd know beforehand. Okay, it was a stretch, but it was all he had.

No one was as surprised as Spike when his plan went off perfectly the next afternoon. He guessed there was always a first time.

*********

She entered the front door like a blur of youthful energy, unceremoniously dumping her bag on the floor beside the couch. A strange noise from upstairs got her attention. _What was that,_ she thought, and then listened to make sure she wasn't hearing things. Nope, there it was again. Kneeling beside her bag, she pulled a stake, then made her way upstairs. A few quick steps later and she was outside the bedroom door where the distinct odor of slightly singed vampire met her nostrils. Opening the door quickly, she burst in, "Spike what are you doing here in..."

An empty bedroom greeted her. She sniffed again. The smell was still there though receding now, replaced by the fresh air seeping in through the open window. Then she saw it - a note laid out carefully on the bed. Curious, she picked it up, reading it in one long rush.

_Buffy,_

_I know I should have told you all this in person, but it isn't like we really talk to each other anymore like we used to. We would end up shouting and saying things we don't really mean. More importantly, I might lose my nerve. This is better._

_I want you to know that I do love you, and even though you may want me to, I would never leave you unless I had to. You are my life, Buffy, and the thought of what I might do to try to keep you in it scares me. I'd never want to hurt you that way, but at the same time, I can't give you up. So I have come to a solution that will benefit us both. I went to see a demon, and he gave me something that should make you happy - a way to bind Angel's soul. No happiness clause. The two of you can be together however you want. Love each other as you should have been able to._

_Of course there is a price of sorts. In order for the spell to work, the "cage" that keeps the demon in check will be weakened, maybe giving Angelus a chance to break free at times. That can't be allowed to happen, so Angel and I have made an agreement. With the help of a spell, I will kill Angelus and take his place. Angel must have a demon so his body can stay alive so to speak. If that demon is me, there will be no danger, because I already love you, and the soul will prevent me from ever wanting to hurt you. Don't worry. Angel will be in control. It will be him you are with. But I'll still be there whenever you need me. And I'll still be able to love you. Even if it is only in his shadow, that will be more than enough._

_By the time you return, the spell should be done. I'll miss my old body (and perhaps you might too), but I'll be okay. Enjoy your life now, Slayer. I want that for you. Take care of Dawn and give her my love. Hopefully someday she'll understand._

_Yours always,_

_Spike_

"Oh my God," she whispered to herself as she realized the last time she'd seen him had been his goodbye. The note floated back onto the bed. _How could he do this to me?_ Her eyes narrowed. _I bet I know where he is. I'm gonna find him and kick his undead ass_. Stuffing the stake in the back of her jeans, she practically flew down the stairs, not bothering to shut the bedroom door. The front door was flung open, then pictures on the wall shook as the door slammed shut only a second later. With little thought about the approaching sunset, Dawn ran towards the graveyard.

No, she didn't understand at all, and Spike was damn sure gonna explain it to her.

TBC


	13. Endings and Beginnings

**Chapter 12: Endings and Beginnings**

Magic items of numerous descriptions littered the top of Spike's sarcophagus, replacing the sheets and blankets that now lay in an unceremonious heap on his comfortable chair. Two pentagrams adorned the crypt floor, surrounded by various intricate symbols, all drawn meticulously by Tara and Willow. The two now decorated the designs with candles, crushed herbs, and talismans.

Spike paced restlessly. The witches had long since given up on him fetching items for them. Not that Angel was of much help either. Spike's nervousness seemed to have worn off on the other vampire as he now ran his hands nervously through his hair.

"You're not having second thoughts are you, mate?" Spike asked Angel for the third time that afternoon.

Angel shook his head. "I'm just concerned for you, Spike." He looked half surprised to hear the words come out of his own mouth. "My demon has fought with another demon for the possession of my body before. It was a short fight."

"Eygon," Willow said, remembering. She glanced at Spike. "Tara's going to try to give him some magical support."

"I won't let Angelus get me," Spike said. "I can't. This is too important." He snorted. "Besides I can't wait to get that wanker back for Dru. Having to watch him paw her, knowing what he was doing…" The last came out mostly grumbled.

"I know Spike." Angel cleared his throat, but his voice still came softly. "I'm sorry he did that to you."

Spike blinked, almost unsure he actually heard that. "S'okay. Not your fault." He was just as uncomfortable hearing it as he knew Angel was saying it, but for some reason his snarky comments weren't coming to save him from the unpleasant situation. What the Hell was wrong here? His nerves must really be frazzled if he couldn't even think of an annoying comeback. _Something happen already,_ he thought. What answered his silent plea for help was a sudden commotion at the door.

"Spike, where are you?" Dawn yelled as she burst into the crypt. The door opened so hard in her wake that it smacked with a dull thud against the crypt wall.

Practically cringing at the sound of her entrance, Spike muttered, "Bloody hell." He should have known better than to tempt fate. Be careful what you bloody wish for and all that rot. He could tell by the tone of Dawn's voice this was not a social call. She knew. Still, he had to try, didn't he? Attempting to appear casual, he put a smirk on his face. "Hey Dawn, over here." Before Dawn reached him, he gave his companions a quick look to communicate that he wished to take care of the situation. Then he waited for her to cross the crypt floor.

She stomped over to him. "Don't you 'Hey Dawn' me, Spike!" She glared at him, not even acknowledging anyone else in the room, perhaps not even noticing them. "How could you do this to me?" Her voice quavered, and her eyes reflected betrayal.

"Dawn..." Spike began, his voice catching.

"No! Don't even try. You weren't even going to tell me. You were just going to leave me."

"I'll still be here. In a way."

"But you won't be you."

"Look, here, I'll still..." No he had to tell her. It was true, so it shouldn't be hard, even though he could feel three extra pairs of eyes staring at him. In the end, though, he muted it, only expressing part of what he was feeling: to do more would be too much, too difficult, too heart-wrenching. "I'll still... care about you, Dawn."

With an expression unmoved by his admission, Dawn slapped him. "I hate you." Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled in contempt.

Spike stood in shock, his blue eyes reflecting a pain that a demon shouldn't be capable of. He looked as if his heart had been shattered.

Dawn turned in a flash, her hair flying violently. Then she ran. Spike snapped out of his shock in time to halt her flight before she could reach the door. With her determination, only his inhuman speed made it possible.

"Please, Nibblet, let me explain," he begged her.

"What can you possibly say that would explain this?" Her eyes flickered fire.

"I couldn't lose her again."

"What are you talking about? Buffy's not going anywhere. She's not dying." Her eyes widened. "Oh, God, s-she isn't dying, is she?" Her last question came out with a note of panic, and Spike figured that her emotionally taxed brain had made an illogical leap.

"No, Bit, but it doesn't take dying to lose someone."

"Cryptic much? Come on, Spike. Spit it out. Just tell me what you mean. You've always been straight with me, told me stuff when no one else would. Don't stop now. You owe me that." Her eyes dared him to deny it.

Spike sighed in defeat, and put his hands on her shoulders. "I can't go back to the way things were between Buffy and I. Not now, Bit. It's too late for that. I've had a taste..."

"You bit her!" Dawn interrupted, horrified, but then she shook her head. "No that doesn't make sense." Her eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Oh, my God! You're boinking Buffy!" She pushed his hands off her shoulders.

"No, I'm not 'boinking' her," he started, then rolled his eyes. "Well, at least that's not how I feel about it. Alright, but she's the one boinking me," he said lamely, and knowing it was so, he continued quickly. "It was an accident." And promptly dug himself deeper.

Dawn narrowed her eyes and gave him a look that said I'm not that stupid.

Spike sighed again. "That's how I've lost her. She can't accept... She broke it off, okay? Said she wanted me, but she couldn't love me, that she was just using me, and that it was killing her."

After a moment, Dawn made a face, and her attitude changed abruptly. "Boy, is she... I mean even I know you don't dump a guy like that, and I haven't even had a boyfriend yet. Well at least a living one that didn't end up a pile of dust. I mean guys are sooo fragile. You can't just..."

She didn't get to finish, because Spike couldn't help it. After hearing her words, he started to chuckle.

"Okay, getting weird now," Dawn said.

Spike stopped abruptly and returned his hands to her shoulders. "Don't let anyone ever convince you that you don't understand things, Dawn."

"Well, duh," she said, but she was smiling.

Spike smiled back. "But you see now. She'll never let me back in..."

"And you can't be just her friend anymore, now that you know what you'd be missing. Yeah, I get that."

He touched a finger to her temple. "See, smart."

She frowned a little. "But you could be wrong. Given time..."

He shook his head and placed a palm against his chest, letting his other arm fall limply to his side. "Vampire, remember? Evil." He dropped his hand from his chest. "I can't trust myself to be patient. I can't take the chance that I might hurt her. This way, I can't. She'll be safe. From me."

"Spike, you'd never hurt her," Dawn protested. "I mean, God, you let Glory torture you so Buffy wouldn't be hurt. So I wouldn't..." But his look and the gentle shake of his head, made her stop her words.

"Love's a funny thing," he replied. "And desperate men do desperate things."

"I trust you," Dawn said simply.

"Yeah, but I don't trust myself. This way, I know I can't hurt her, and I'll still be able to love her. She can be happy. Have someone she loves."

"But Spike..."

He shook his head softly, once, his eyes telling her that his mind was made up. The pain on his face was palpable. He looked like he had all that he could take, like he had lost everything with no other hope of finding solace. And there was something else. Resignation.

"She'd make you stay away from me, too," Dawn said knowingly, almost as a whisper.

Spike said nothing. He knew he didn't have to.

Dawn's mouth twisted a little, as if she were making an effort not to cry, then she took in a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly through slightly parted lips. Spike watched her sad eyes move over his face as if studying him, but he didn't move or attempt to hide from her gaze. Instead, he tried to let his love for her show in his expression.

Dawn could see his emotions, always could see them plainly written in his eyes. How Buffy had missed it for so long would always remain a mystery to the younger sister. "Change," she said softly after a moment.

Spike's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I want to remember all of you."

Nodding in understanding, Spike blinked slowly, once, in acquiescence, then he let his face shift into his demon features.

"Eewww," Dawn said, but she smiled at him, eyes twinkling, to show him that she was teasing him.

"Very funny, Bit," Spike replied while Dawn moved a tentative hand towards his demon face. He gently bit the tips of her fingers playfully when she moved them to touch his mouth then let them go. He didn't hide his fangs, smiling instead, and she returned the smile as she traced her fingers lightly over his extended canines. Spike kept eye contact as she peppered her fingers softly up his cheekbone, then lowered his lashes when she reached the ridges on his forehead. Softly leaning his head into her touch, he made a small sound, like a contented growl. After a moment, his eyes opened again, the color slowly changing from gold to blue as she took her hand away, and his features shifted back into his human face.

Her smile turned sad as she looked at him. "I'll miss you so much."

The three other occupants of the crypt stared at the surreal scene that played out in front of them. The exchange between the young woman and the vampire could have been erotic, but it wasn't. Tara couldn't help but think of a father playfully nipping at the fingers of his small daughter as she explored the planes and features of his face, trying to learn its nuances. Spike was showing the same affection and patience with Dawn's touch. Without turning her gaze away, she said to her companions, "that was either very sweet or very disturbing. I'm not sure which."

"I think it was both," Willow replied, similarly not taking her eyes from the two.

"I'll vote for disturbing," Angel added.

Spike turned his gaze on the three, breaking the spell. "Well, what are you people staring at? Are we going to do this or what?"

*********

Warren didn't like the demon's plan. It was too vague. A good plan had to have a specific goal and a specific method to achieve that goal - like his plan. He'd wanted Buffy gone, so he had intended to shoot her. Buffy would be gone, dead, goal achieved. According to Gnash's plan, the Slayer would be dead eventually, maybe, but there could be many potential outcomes in the aftermath. He particularly didn't like the idea of perhaps having this demon Angelus running around. That was the type of unpredictability that sounded dangerous: kind of like having Darth Vader as your ally. All good and fine until The Dark Lord decided he didn't need you anymore.

Furthermore, the plan seemed to require him doing most of the work, including being teleported to Spike's crypt at the crucial moment. After having done it once with the demon already, Warren had decided that mode of transportation was not as cool as television had made it appear. Shows like "Star Trek" always made it seem benign, like nothing could go wrong, and you just continued on your merry way. Who would have guessed that wimp, Barclay, on "The Next Generation" was right? Teleporting was an unnerving experience - with your body's molecules flying through space and time and having to be kept together as they went, hopefully in the right order. Warren had certain parts of him he didn't want to lose. He shivered.

Gnash's grunt brought him out of his thoughts. The demon pointed to the statue he'd been frequently consulting for the past day and a half. "It's almost time," he said with malicious glee. "They are finishing the spell preparation right now."

A taloned hand beckoned Warren over to the scene in the statue's eyes. "Who is this pretty, little morsel?" He asked as he pointed to the teenage girl who hovered on the edge of the scene.

"The Slayer's sister," Warren answered.

"Lovely," Gnash commented. "How would you like to have her as a reward for helping me? I could make her yours."

A grin graced Warren's face. She was a little young, but definitely attractive and innocent, and oh the things he could teach her. He hesitated a moment until the demon said, "She's old enough to be ripe, yet young enough to mold to your will. To make her subservient. Just how you like your women to be."

Warren felt a cold finger go up his back. How could this demon know that? He looked at the image of Dawn again, and almost unconsciously felt himself nodding. His grin returned. He almost hoped the Slayer lived long enough to know he'd have her sister.

*********

Tara took one last look at the preparations and sighed. There was nothing more to be done. Twilight was falling, and the magic energy felt right. Stalling now would be counter-productive. She looked at Spike, knowing that he would understand.

The vampire nodded and went over to an alcove in the crypt, returning with two sets of shackles. "Come on, mate. It's time." He motioned Angel towards one of the pentagrams.

Angel looked at Spike with mild surprise, as if noticing for the first time that the pentagram had been positioned in close proximity to a large metal ring in the wall. "I have to be in chains?" he asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

"Damn straight," Spike replied. "Thought that would be obvious. I will be too." He gestured to the pentagram he would occupy which was similarly placed near a restraining ring on the adjacent wall. "Can't take any chances in case something goes wrong. Speaking of which…" Putting down the sets of shackles, Spike crossed to his weapons chest.

Tara knew what he would remove even before he hefted the crossbow out of it. She couldn't hide her surprise, however, when he brought the weapon to her. "Spike I c-couldn't."

He pushed it firmly into her hands. "Yeah you could. And you will if something goes wrong. Do us both if you have to. You reset it like this." He took the weapon back and showed her twice, likely realizing that she was still rejecting the idea during his first demonstration. Then he handed the weapon back to her. "Go on. Get the feel of it." He wouldn't leave her side until she lifted the weapon and sighted it, finally nodding his approval when she did. "Keep it handy," he told her.

Spike glanced at Dawn, who had been quietly sitting on the window bench. She withdrew the stake from the back of her jeans and showed it to him. He nodded. "Don't be scared, Bit, but if trouble comes, you run, okay?" Dawn nodded back.

"Shouldn't she go home?" Angel asked.

"No," Dawn protested. "I want to be here."

"It's dark. Sun was setting when she got here. Buffy'd kill me if I sent her home alone in the dark," Spike replied as he moved into his pentagram.

Tara watched Willow follow him. The vampire held his hands out for her easily, but the look on his face told Tara he was going to give her lover at least a little bit of a hard time. Her girlfriend had already shackled Angel during the crossbow demonstration.

"Another time, not so long ago, Red, and this…" Spike began with a purr when she locked the first manacle around his right wrist.

"Don't you even say it," she interrupted him in playful warning as she yanked the second manacle and chain through the large ring on the crypt wall, then locked the cuff around his left wrist.

He raised his eyebrows at her, and gave her a naughty smile. "But I can think it."

She raised her finger at him and said "Shh, or I won't help you. Or better yet I'll tell Buffy and let her beat you up."

Angel scoffed from his pentagram. "That would only encourage him. Ignore him. He's just anxious."

"Am not," Spike protested then sighed. "Alright, a little bit."

"Good, because this is serious," Tara said, trying to bring the focus back to her. She wasn't entirely comfortable with the responsibility, but it had been given to her, so she would handle it her way. Her tension eased as Willow moved to her side.

"I'm here, Baby," she said quietly, soothingly. "For Buffy," she encouraged.

Tara nodded. "Alright, just like we practiced." She began to chant as Willow lighted the candles.

*********

Gnash watched the progression of the spell, waiting for the perfect moment to send Warren. He had seen the four spell participants practicing the day before and knew how fragile the incantation was. His original spell was sensitive enough to begin with, but now with the changes, even an oaf like Warren could upset the delicate balance.

Inwardly he snorted. The boy had almost backed out on him. Until he offered the girl, that is. Humans were so easy to read, so predictable, and this one was hedonistic enough to manipulate easily. It hadn't taken long to find something to tempt him with. That and he still thought he would be around to enjoy the fruits of his revenge. Knowing the vampire and his allies as he did, Gnash doubted that, but if this Warren was arrogant enough to believe he could go into the lion's den with two witches and two vampires, so be it. He was sure to get what he wanted whether or not Warren made it out alive, and it would surely be fun to watch, no matter which outcome came to pass.

*********

Willow could feel the power in the room, and she tried to keep the sensation from exciting her. Oh, how she missed that feeling, but she pushed the thought down. _Focus. She had to focus on the woman beside her who needed her now. Listening, she tried to translate where they were in the spell. Tara always had been better at Latin than she was, but she managed to figure it out in her head. This was the part of the spell that bridged the vampire's minds. The idea was that while they were fighting, Tara would prepare to bind the soul, and when they were sure that Spike had defeated Angelus, she would say the words to cement that binding. The beginning effects would be there, allowing Angel to separate from his demon, but without the final words, the binding wouldn't be complete. Besides the finality of the crossbow, this was the only tenuous recourse they had should something go wrong. And if Angel were to be bound to Angelus instead of Spike, there would definitely be something wrong._

As Tara completed the chant to keep their minds linked, Willow could feel her need for more power, so she reached out her hand to her lover's. Lost in her concentration, Tara was unaware of the offering until their fingers touched then Tara looked at her in question before accepting. The effect was instantaneous. Apparently feeling the infusion immediately, Tara began the second part of the spell with renewed energy. Willow ignored the aching in her body as the energy was taken, not realizing before now that getting drained was even more uncomfortable than doing the magic itself. She would persevere. Besides, whatever she was feeling couldn't be as bad as what was happening across the room.

*********

As Spike felt the first effects of the spell, he remembered why he hated magic so much. _Suck it up, mate_, he told himself. _You wanted this_. He opened his mind and accepted the magical power Tara offered him then he focused and waited. As a vision slowly came into his mind, he was at first confused. He hadn't been sure what he'd expected, but this surely wasn't it. It was like he could see himself in his head, and sure enough, he wasn't alone.

The rage came without hesitation. He may have been muzzled by the chip, but that didn't extend to demons and surely not to the demon now in his sights. Spike had worried that he might hesitate, that he might have some residual feeling for this demon who had taught him how to be a vampire, but he focused on the pain of losing Drusilla to him and the hate came almost immediately. He roared in his head and charged.

*********

Angel almost panicked. With the curse in effect, his demon had always been kept in the cage: there but subdued, controlled. Except that one time before when the presence of the other demon had somehow let it out for a moment to battle for what was it's territory. This was like that time, only worse.

He figured that it must be the effect of the spell, but Angel could already feel him and his demon separating a bit, and even stranger still, he could see it and himself in his mind. Then he heard an inhuman but familiar roar and knew it was about to get very crowded and violent in his head.

*********

Warren put the gun in his pocket and waited for Gnash to send him to Spike's crypt. He was to charge in and disrupt the proceedings, thereby upsetting the delicate balance of the spell. If he had to shoot one or more of the people involved in order to achieve that desired result, so be it, the demon had told him, but hopefully his disturbing the spell would be enough.

Gnash hadn't told him exactly what would happen as a result of these actions, and Warren had a feeling the demon didn't even know himself, but he was positive that it would be bad for them and good for him. Warren wasn't exactly sure where he fit in all this. He only knew he had little choice. The unpleasant sensations that told him he was about to be teleported were already coursing through his body.

*********

Pain was there, but it was inconsequential. All that mattered was tearing his enemy to shreds. He couldn't be defeated. Giving up wasn't an option. It was the last conscious thought Spike had before he succumbed to the primal fury of the fight.

*********

Angel could feel the pain, but only vaguely, as if it were coming through a filter. He saw his demon and Spike fighting, and knew the injuries he should feel, but the pain didn't translate. It wasn't focused or connected to the injuries he saw on the demons in front of him. And perhaps that disassociation was what allowed him to see that something was wrong.

Beyond the demons, the light that had allowed Spike to come through was getting smaller, like an iris closing. He knew somehow that this was the link between their minds and that without it, without the strength of the connection to his body, Spike's chances against Angelus would decrease. Realization came to him. Tara was losing the spell somehow, and Spike was not going to be able to defeat Angelus in time. Mustering all the courage he could, he fought through the haze and barreled towards the two demons, rejoicing as Spike knocked his demon down just as he reached them. Angel mentally grabbed the other vampire and lunged for the receding tunnel of light.

*********

Willow didn't hear the words Warren shouted into the crypt. All she saw was the gun. The gun aimed at Tara. Instinctively she reacted, the power rushing back into her. Unaware of Tara's gasp, she threw her free arm forward and the words came without effort. Energy crackled from her fingertips, hurling Warren across the room. He landed in a heap against Angel's limp body.

It took a moment for the vampire to react, but no one moved in that time, each either too weary or shocked to react before the vampire did. He shook his head as if clearing it and his eyes focused. "Here let me help you up there," he said as he hauled Warren upright.

Dawn squeaked as Angel's fangs descended and bit into Warren's neck. Tara's eyes widened, but she couldn't move, her body drained. "Willow," she pleaded, "do something. I can't…" But Willow wasn't listening. Her black eyes remained focused on the now screaming Warren, and had anyone been looking at her face, they might have seen the slight smile on her lips.

*********

Tara watched, horrified, as Angel dropped the now lifeless Warren to the crypt floor. "God, I don't know what you witches did to me, but I feel great!" he announced. He pulled on the shackles binding his wrists as if he was just now truly noticing them. "Could do without these though. How about letting me out?"

"Like we'd be dumb enough to do that," Dawn said. "You're not Angel."

"Oh and what was your first clue?" he retorted mockingly. "Could it be - gasp – that I actually did something a vampire would do?" He wrapped the chains around his arms. "Don't bother to get up. I'll take care of it myself."

"Shoot him now," Spike said, his voice coming out raspy. "He might get out."

Tara shook herself out of her lethargy, picked up the crossbow, and aimed. Her shot was actually good considering her weakness, but the vampire was faster. He dodged, the only reason the crossbow hitting him at all being that the chains he'd wrapped around his arms had restricted his movement. He grunted as he pulled the bolt from his arm. "Well thanks for playing pin the stake in the vampire, but you missed, and I have places to be."

"You're not going anywhere," Willow said.

"Oh yeah, and what are you going to do to stop me?"

"This," Willow said as she stretched her arms out to the sides. "Goddess Hecate, give me strength!"

"Oh and I'm supposed to be impressed…" He broke off as Willow threw light from her hands in his direction, chanting furiously.

Angelus pulled the chains frantically, finally breaking them from the metal restraint, but that was what Willow had been waiting for. As soon as he was free she shouted a final command and the light expanded into a portal. Angelus only had time to scream "No!" before the magical doorway swallowed him up.

Willow slumped to the floor, nose bleeding, but her eyes remained open. "He should know better than to say something like that to a witch."

"Honey, are you all right?" Tara asked.

"I'll be fine, just give me a second to get up here."

Spike cleared his throat. "I didn't know how strong you'd become, so neither did he. Otherwise he would have been more wary of you."

Tara gave him a funny look. "Yes you did, you…"

"That's not Spike," Dawn said softly, then raised her voice. "Spike doesn't talk like that."

Tara looked at him, reaching out with her mind, and she could see the aura, she could feel the soul. "But that's not… how did you…?"

Spike's head tilted. "I saw the connection closing. I had to make a choice."

"Where's Spike?" Dawn asked in panic. "Is he…"

"He's here too."

"You sure?" Willow said as she shakily got to her feet. "What I sent through the portal could have been Spike." She decided to sit instead when her legs were still wobbly.

Spike's face turned, his fangs and brow rides forming. "Ah, now I'm insulted, pet. I have better taste than that." He indicated Warren with a flick of his thumb. "You need more convincing, I could tell them about that fuzzy, pink number with the lilac underneath." He cupped his palms upward and waggled his fingers suggestively.

Willow squeaked. "That's Spike."

"I could've told you that, sweetie. I can see him now," Tara told her.

"Well then, you better help me up," Willow replied, smiling up at her. "I guess we have a binding spell to finish."

TBC


	14. Gains and Losses, part 1

**Author's notes:** Okay guys. Sorry this took a while – the original chapter was a hard "R" (in part 2) and it took me a while to edit it into a PG13 – please someone let me know if I didn't succeed (e-mail me – my address is in my author profile), but I tried to use what's been on the show as somewhat of a guide as to what I can and can't use so hopefully I succeeded – a little warning here for any who might blush easily.

As for the original "R" version – I submitted it to inamorati (see my author's profile for the web address) where my story also resides.

Feed back is always appreciated, especially now that I'm going it alone.

**Summary:** Previously – Dawn confronted Spike, Willow and Tara performed the spell which – of course – didn't quite go as planned, Warren was duped, and Angelus was foiled again. Wow, busy chapter, and here's another one…

**Chapter 13, part 1: Gains and Losses**

_Wait a minute_, Dawn's internal voice warned. Her brain was still trying to process the dead guy on the floor and the fact that Spike and Angel were both in Spike's body. Never mind the not-so-small problem of where Angelus went. And now Willow wanted to continue with the magic when the energy from her last display still lingered like static electricity in the air? The fact that Willow was still on the floor with a nose bleed just seemed like a sparking, downed power line after the tornado had blown the house away; an obvious and redundant sign that all was not well in Kansas anymore. She couldn't be the only one who saw it?

"Y-you can't do the rest of the spell now," she finally managed to blurt out. "You're all… drained."

"But we have to," Willow protested, her mouth a placating smile. "It won't take too much. It's already started." She carelessly wiped the blood from beneath her nose with the cuff of her shirt sleeve.

"If you need to rest," a still-in-vamp-face Spike added. "We can wait." Then he rolled his eyes, and muttered under his breath.

"I-is something wrong?" Tara asked.

Spike quirked his mouth around his fangs. "The Poof is complaining in my head. I told him to sod off and be patient." He snorted. "Would you quit… Fine." He sighed. "He says it's important," Spike snarked. His ridges and fangs receded, and his eyes turned back to their original blue.

Dawn found it odd to watch. Even his posture seemed to change, though she couldn't place what the difference was exactly. When he spoke, though, she knew it was Angel and not Spike. "Are you sure the timing isn't important? The style of the spell reminds me of some of the prophecies we've looked at on our scroll, and the way some of the words refer to dark and light remind me of…"

"References to twilight and dawn," Tara interrupted. "Yes, I saw that too. And you're right. There is a little timing involved. That's why we did the spell when we did. Twilight, representing the end of the curse's hold, and dawn…"

"Being when the effect of the merger will take place," Willow finished. "The new beginning."

Angel nodded then scoffed.

"What?" Dawn asked him, knowing Spike had said something. She smiled. "What did he say?"

"That it sounded awfully symbolic and poetic for a spell," Angel supplied.

Dawn raised her eyebrows and smirked.

"Only not quite that nicely," he added.

"Well, spells in themselves are already quite poetic and literary if you think about it, with all the rhyming and repetition of themes, and…" Willow trailed off when Tara touched her arm. "Okay not so much of interest right now," she conceded. "With the time constraints."

"I thought it was insightful," Angel said with a small smile before his face turned, the look of annoyance indicating his new alter ego was having a good time pestering him.

Dawn just knew she would've loved to hear Spike's comment. She missed him already. "But we have almost 9 hours before sunrise," Dawn pointed out. "We should be fine.

Glancing at her watch, Tara said, "Oh. It's only 9:15. It seemed so much later. I guess the spell took it out of me."

"But that explains why the danger then," Willow pointed out. "Because well, in that time, Angelus could have done a lot of damage if he took over."

"Yes," Angel agreed. "And you better not get any ideas either," he said to Spike, both in his head and out loud. Then he rolled his eyes, explaining, "He just oh-so-politely pointed out that we are in his body, therefore we have a chip."

"That's right," Tara said. "That may take some getting used to for you. Not that you go around hurting people," she pointed out hastily.

"The chip doesn't designate between good and bad humans though," Dawn added with some concern, "so you may have to be a little more careful."

"And we've seen him get zapped," Willow said. She shook her head. "It doesn't look fun." Everyone nodded in agreement.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt with seemingly nothing left to say, and Dawn could feel the discomfort in the room. Willow fidgeted with the paper that held the spell. Tara stared into her lap as she sat on the floor beside Willow. Angel looked around the crypt at nothing in particular. Dawn almost sighed in relief when she got an idea.

"How about I go let Spi- ah, Angel out of the chains while you guys rest?" she offered.

"It should be okay now that they are both in Spike's body and Angelus is gone," Willow conceded.

"Where did you send Angelus by the way?" Dawn asked as she retrieved the key. Willow's mention of the vampire had reminded her of her earlier concern.

"Someplace nasty," Willow said perkily. "Not exactly sure where. A general address of a group of hell dimensions though. I'm sure he'll be very happy there."

On her way to Angel, Dawn noticed Warren's body and hurriedly grabbed one of Spike's sheets to cover it, shivering as she did so. She then quickly moved to Angel and unlocked his wrists, watching him as he looked at his hands strangely and turned them over as if he'd never seen them before. Which, she guessed, in a way he hadn't. At least not as part of himself. She turned apologetic eyes to him.

"It's gonna be weird, huh?"

"A little," Angel said with his usual dose of understatement.

Hearing Willow take a deep breath, they both turned eyes on her.

"I think I'm ready," she announced, then looked at Tara with a small apologetic smile. "Are you ready?" At Tara's nod she added, "If you want to do it alone…"

"We can both do it," Tara answered, taking Willow's hand.

Maybe it was only her imagination, but Dawn thought she noticed a hint of trepidation in Tara's voice; a note of concern that maybe Willow was slipping back into her old ways too easily. Dawn hoped it was only her imagination. She didn't want to see a return of the Willow she saw that night of the car accident. She took a breath and reminded herself, _it's only a little spell, then watched as the witches completed the merging._

*******

Gnash growled in frustration as he watched the scene play out in the statue's eyes. _Fine, he thought. __If Spike wanted a soul so badly, well now he had one. Happy torment to him. That stupid Angel just had to figure it out at the last minute. If he hadn't transferred himself and demon Spike into Spike's body, the loss of connection would have surely meant the traitor vampire's defeat, and Angel might have been stuck with Angelus forever. Of course they might have staked him as soon as they found out._

He sighed. Perhaps this was better in a way. Sure Angelus was somewhere in an alternate dimension, but Gnash had experience with those as well as dimensional travel. With the right spells, he'd find the vampire eventually. Then he could bring him back. When no one would expect. After they'd forgotten all about him. The demon smirked. After a stint in a hell dimension with time to stew about it, Angelus was likely to be good and angry when he got back. That'd be just fine with Gnash. Perhaps this hadn't gone so badly after all.

*********

Power sucked and surged all around him, making his body feel like it was being battered back and forth amidst the crackling energy. He'd been through dimensional upheaval before, but never quite like this. It was going on too long with too much power, and he saw more than one dimension flash by him as he was pulled along through the rift. Finally he seemed to slow, getting a good look at on odd sight before he flashed through one last rift and landed in a heap on a hard surface.

With a low growl, Angelus sat up. In front of him, an eerie reddish cast glowed on a horizon which held nothing discernable but jagged, barren rock against a ruddy sky. The sky itself similarly held nothing familiar - no sun, clouds, moon or stars that he could discern. Perhaps that glow on the horizon came from a setting sun, or maybe the light just emanated from the rocks themselves. Well, he'd find out soon enough he guessed. Perhaps a better question was - where the hell was he? Wherever it was, it didn't look promising. There didn't seem to be any other creatures in sight. He sniffed the air then, catching the scent of other beings somewhere. Not recent, but there. The vampire smirked. This would be no Girl Scout picnic, but he'd make do for now until he could find his way back somehow. Besides it was certainly better than that last dimension he'd plowed through. What the hell had been with all the shrimp anyway?

*********

Buffy moved a hank of her hair to her nose and inhaled as she walked into the living room. "Unh," she exclaimed, shutting the door behind her. An extra long shower would be required to get the grease and Double Meat Palace smell out of her hair. She listened to see if anyone was home, sighing when she heard no familiar rustlings from Willow or Dawn. Recalling a conversation from breakfast that morning, Buffy guessed her sister had decided to go to her friend Terry's after all. _Weird that she didn't take her backpack though_, Buffy thought when she caught sight of the indispensable teenage accessory leaning against the wall by the front door. Her brain filled with big sisterly ire_. If Dawn isn't doing homework at Terry's, she better be home by ten or… no going to the mall for a month._ She nodded her head in satisfaction at the thought. It was time she took responsibility for disciplining her sister.

Buffy moved into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, groaning at the thought of eating anything substantial at this time of night. She settled on a yogurt, thankful that someone had gone shopping, and ate it as she headed upstairs.  As soon as the yogurt cup was emptied, she practically clawed the uniform off her body and threw it into a corner of the bathroom. "This job will do stuff to you, Buffy," echoed in her brain, complete with British accent. She ignored the memory and turned the water on. All she wanted was to wash it all away, wash everything away, and for the next half hour that's what she tired to do.

*********

"I don't feel any different," Angel said to Willow. He tried not to look concerned, but was sure he was failing miserably.

"That's okay," Willow told him, her voice almost too confident. "I felt it happen." She turned to Tara for confirmation, and the other witch nodded succinctly.

"You likely w-won't feel the entire effects until dawn. You'll be in a kind of limbo until then. Neither one of you in control until the spell completely binds you together. But Willow is right. I felt the magic go through us. Your soul and Spike's demon are tethered together, and the effects will be complete as soon as the sun rises."

"What's going to happen then?" Angel asked. "What will… What will Spike feel?"

"We can't be entirely sure of that," Willow said. "He'll be there somewhere, but how much control he'll have if any…" She shrugged. "It will likely be like it was before with Angelus but with a little more affect from Spike because of the binding and all."

Nodding, Angel turned his head to see Dawn staring at him with a slightly annoyed look. He'd though he felt the tingle of a penetrating teenage stare. "Dawn," he began.

"I should be getting home," the teen interrupted with a huff. "Buffy will be worried about me." She moved towards Willow and Tara in anticipation of a departure.

"He made me promise to visit you," Angel mumbled.

Dawn gave him a weird look. "What?" she almost laughed.

Angel cleared his throat. "He made me promise to visit you," he repeated. "So he could see you. At least once a month. A weekend."

Dawn's eyes started storming over, and she likely would have gone off on a teenage rant if Angel hadn't let Spike take over. He watched the teen's face change as she saw the ridges and fangs come forward.

"Nibblet, now don't be like that. I intend to keep that promise."

The resolve on Dawn's face crumbled, and she fell wordlessly into his arms. Spike held her awkwardly at first, but then with more conviction, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. It was odd to Angel that he was the one more uncomfortable with the embrace than the demon. Then he felt some pain as the teen squeezed him tighter. "Oi, Bit," Spike complained. "Not quite up to snuff yet, and you're stronger than you look."

And it was true. There were no outward physical manifestations on Spike's body from the fight he'd had with Angelus, but there were aches and pains in the appropriate places. Perhaps the only consolation seemed to be that the broken ribs had pretty much healed themselves. Angel thanked whatever powers gave them accelerated healing that at least this was the case.

"Sorry," Dawn said sheepishly as she backed off, and once again joined Tara and Willow. Both looked tired and drawn. "I'll hold you to that though. You'll be sorry if you don't visit. I'll make sure of it."

Spike smiled around his fangs. "I have no doubt, pet." Then he turned to the women. "You guys go home. Rest. I'll let you know if something odd happens come sunrise."

"Not unless you want to be a crispy critter," Willow pointed out. "We'll come by to check on you, okay?"

Nodding, Spike changed back into Angel, almost with little thought. "Make sure that you get enough rest first. That's the most important thing. Just in case something bad does happen, you'll need to be at full strength."

"Nothing bad will happen," Willow assured him. "I felt it. The magic worked. I know it did." She nodded emphatically then frowned and pouted, her hand cradling her obviously aching head. "Rest now," she said forlornly.

Tara couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, we'll rest."

"I'll take care of… of…"

"Warren," Dawn supplied for Angel when she noticed the direction of his gaze.

"Put him near the entrance… no the east wall gate. We'll call it in anonymously in a few hours," Willow said. They all knew the police wouldn't ask any questions. Such was the norm in Sunnydale.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Tara told him, giving him a smile as the three moved towards the crypt door. "We'll get all this magic stuff then."

Angel watched them go then sat to rest for a moment. He'd need a bit of time to recover before he took on the task of removing Warren's body.

*********

One towel wrapped snuggly around her body, Buffy rubbed her hair with another towel while bitch-slapping that little voice in her head that told her using two towels was an unnecessary burden on the laundry. Ha! She'd use them both at least twice more before throwing them in the wash. _Use of two towels justified_, she though triumphantly. Once finished with her hair, she hung that towel on a hook on the back of her door and moved towards her bed to grab the pajamas from beneath her pillow. Being dressed for bed would add just that much more impact when she scolded Dawn for being late. Never mind that she'd have to redress to patrol around two or so. She felt like using troll logic today so… Her forehead furrowed as she noticed a note on the bed. That hadn't been there before.

She read the first part of the note quickly, but her mind stumbled over the part that mentioned Angel and binding his soul. She read that part twice more, a knot forming in her stomach. _Oh, God. What does this mean?_ It'd been what she'd wanted for so long, but at the same time, the thought terrified her. _What will Angel think of what I've become and… oh, he has to know about me and Spike_. She sat down on the bed, her legs unable to support her. Her breath quickened as she read the next part. She'd thought it couldn't be harder to take than the last part, but she'd been wrong. "Spike, what did you do?" she whispered aloud. He was killing himself, or close enough to it, just so she could be happy. _Oh God_, she thought, the strange conversation they'd had the last time she saw him now making perfect sense. That's why he'd wanted to know if she still loved Angel. And her answer had encouraged him to go through with it.

Flinging the towel aside, she yanked clothes from her dresser, dressing hurriedly. Maybe there was still time… _To what_, she thought. _Stop this? Is that what she wanted?_ She shook her head. She'd figure that out when she got there, when she found him… them. _Less thinking, more dressing,_ she scolded herself. In another two minutes, she was flying out the front door, and the pictures rattled in response for the second time that day.

TBC – part 2


	15. Gains and Losses, part 2

**Chapter 13: Gains and Losses (cont.)**

_Bloody Hell_.

It was Spike's thought, but Angel heard it loud and clear. He'd just finished depositing Warren's body, so it still would be hours yet before sunrise when their thoughts could be separated without an effort, and right now it was just easier to share them. A few moments passed before Angel understood why Spike had thought the curse. He must have sensed Buffy before Angel did, because there she was, making her way towards them through the lush grass of the cemetery.  
_  
Didn't think she'd find us so soon_, Spike added to his first reflection.

_Too late now.__ Here she comes_, Angel thought back to him.

As if to illustrate his point, Buffy turned and focused on him, now heading with more purpose in his direction. Angel wasn't sure he could read what her intention was just yet, but he was soon to find out. Closing the gap between them, Buffy looked at him with an almost relieved expression.  "Spike," she breathed, but then her face changed quickly to an expression Angel couldn't name.

_She thinks you're me. Watch out_, Spike warned Angel.

_Watch out for what?_ Angel thought.

Buffy brought her fist back and punched the now blonde Angel in the nose.

_That_, Spike thought.

_Thanks a lot for the warning_, Angel told him.

"What were you thinking? Are you a complete moron?" Buffy yelled at him.

_Grab her wrists_, Spike warned. _Or she might hit you again. And say something for God's sakes_. Angel grabbed Buffy's wrists, but faced with her stormy eyes all he could think of to say was, "Buffy."

It seemed to be enough. Buffy could tell something by the tone, or maybe the inflection. The way he said her name, it was... different. "What..."

"Buffy it's me," Angel said.

"Angel?" Buffy asked quietly, searching his eyes.

He nodded.

"How? A-and where is..." She didn't finish the question, but Angel knew what she wanted to ask. If this was him, she wanted to know where Spike was.

_Let me talk to her_, Spike thought to Angel, _you'll get yours soon enough. I might not have much time left_.

_Alright_, was the answer. _I guess I owe you that much_. Angel let his control slip away, and his eyes turned gold, and brow ridges formed as his new demon, Spike, took over.

"I'm here, pet," Spike said in his familiar accent. "Now, I'll let go if you promise not to hit. I wouldn't mind having a go, but Angel isn't so use to your rough stuff yet."

Buffy's lips parted just slightly, and for once, Spike wasn't sure he could read her expression. Was that... relief? Then she hid it, and her face turned to confusion. When she nodded, Spike released her hands.

She let her hands drop to her sides bonelessly, as if she were too preoccupied to notice they had fallen. "You actually did it, but weren't you supposed to be..."

"Yeah, that didn't quite go as planned. Angelus didn't quite want to vacate so easily. We sent him to another dimension. This was the only way."

"So you're both gonna... be in there?" Buffy asked as she pointed to his chest, and she seemed truly unnerved by the prospect.

"Yes, and no, pet. Come sunrise... Well, I won't have so much say in the matter anymore. I'll be here, but mostly only when the demon's in the forefront. That being me and all now."

After a moment, Buffy said softly, "You didn't have to do this," but her voice didn't match the conviction of her words.

"Yeah, I did. You know it was the only way." He thought to Angel, _Can I have control? Complete control, so I can talk to her with my old face. One last time?_

Without a word, Angel acquiesced, and Spike could feel his grand-sire's soul moving itself away, suppressing its will. The blue eyes emerged, and the fangs and ridges receded.

"It's still me," Spike assured her. "I just wanted you to see me like this..."

  
"One more time," Buffy finished for him.

She brought her hand to his cheek, noting how he had to make an effort not to flinch. Had she really instilled in him so much trepidation at her touch? "I should be angry at you. I should be furious," she told him.

"I know, but I couldn't be without you, and you'd never let me..."

"I know," Buffy interrupted. She looked at his lean form. "This is gonna be so weird..."

Spike smirked, and Buffy could tell by his eyes that Spike was about to make one of his famous attempts at lightening the mood. "Yeah, but just think. You get Angel's soul, but you still get to have this manly body." As he said it, the smirk turned seductive, and he slid one hand, fingers splayed, down his torso to rest above the waistline of his low-riding jeans. The action was familiar, reminiscent of his display the night of their first fight in Sunnydale High so long ago.

Her reaction, however, was not the same. Desire had replaced the disgust and trepidation, though sometimes she had to admit her feelings then may not have been so far from now. "You're a pig, Spike," she told him, though her eyes didn't show the expression to back up those words.

"Well, maybe," he replied, his voice smooth as velvet and his lashes sweeping down and then up again, "but I'm the one who makes **you** squea..."

She put her fingers to his mouth quickly. "Don't say it," she warned, but her cheeks flushed, and her eyes smiled.

"Alright, I won't," Spike said. "Actions are better anyway. With that he grabbed Buffy's arms and kissed her thoroughly.

For a moment, Buffy thought to protest, but she told that voice of reason to shut up, and soon she was smoothing her hands over Spike's arms and chest and returning the kiss with equal intensity. It was unnerving the way her body reacted to his touch, how it seemed to melt and yield, while at the same time wanting to devour him. In the end, she just gave in. There was so little time left for him. She would let him have it, have her, all of her. Just this one last time.

  
Angel was sure that Spike would have told him to sod off if he protested, but he was lost for the moment, drowning in Buffy's kiss. He decided to let him be. Not that Spike would have paid him any mind anyway, not with a beautiful Buffy in his arms. It was time for Angel to give in and leave them alone for a while.

In the moment before he banished himself again, Angel felt Spike's love for Buffy, but it was so full of passion and fire that the elder vampire was amazed that the other was able to keep himself together. He was still awed that Spike was able to keep from biting her all this time, was never swept away in the heat of this passion. Right now, he had to concentrate hard just to remain in the background of what was turning out to be a rather heated... Oh Hell, were they really going to... Right here in the cemetery?

Angel couldn't keep from feeling what was going on any longer. It was too difficult with all the emotions rushing in, but he forced himself to remain silent. He reminded himself that this was not the romance and young, innocent love Buffy had for him. This was passion and fire, desire and all consuming need - something he now hoped he could have a taste of with Buffy, and that was because of Spike. So no matter how jealous he was, Angel would not take away what might be the last chance for Spike to have this. Instead he remained mentally quiet and let the sensations Spike was feeling rush over his soul. He couldn't imagine what would be coming, if the feelings he was sensing now were just the beginning.

The build-up was slow and blissful, but the rest was not. Angel could tell the moment Buffy reached her moment of climax, the joy and pride Spike felt at having given it to her almost blinding him. Spike's own release followed a few minutes later like a rush of fire through Angel's soul. It was as close to being alive as a vampire could come, and Angel now knew why Spike had done this, why he could never let Buffy go. She was his life, his light, and letting her go would have been like dying all over again.

Waiting for the calm he knew would follow the lover's storm, Angel would give them a little more time to just be together. A small part of him wanted Buffy to be his alone, but another hoped for Spike's sake that the vampire would still be able to feel what was going on, to maybe even have his own time with Buffy. They still didn't know what the total effects of the spell would be on their respective essences, only that Spike's role would be outshadowed by his own. Angel would be willing to try to make that enough for Spike. He owed him that much for the opportunity he would soon have, and the pain it would likely cause Spike once the effect of the soul took hold.

Angel knew his opportunity would be soon enough. It was a chance he had only dreamed would come, and now he only had to wait a little longer. Never had he been so happy for the approaching dawn.

They'd lingered most of the early morning hours, talking, reminiscing, interrupted by numerous sessions of kissing and more. _God_, Angel thought, _do they ever stop?_ Finally a sensation began to sink into Angel's brain. Dawn. It was coming soon. _Spike.__ Dawn's coming soon. We have to go._

_Go 'way, Angel. 'M not finished yet. Buffy's got at least one more left._ Somehow Spike managed to make that thought even feel salacious. It was then that Angel realized that he and Buffy were not simply spooned together on top of Spike's leather coat as he had thought. Spike, and by default, he as well, had hands in rather intimate places. One arm snaked beneath her waist, his hand resting on her breast, fingers caressing her hardened nipple. The other arm draped over her hip, his fingers deftly moving across her silken folds. Spike whispered in her ear. "So Beautiful, Buffy. Come for me, Luv. One more time." Angel thought to protest, until Spike kissed her neck softly, and he realized his new demon was not going to give up easily. Besides, Buffy didn't seem to be objecting.__

As if to further prove the point, she let out a soft moan, and her body responded to Spike's touch with small movements of her hips. Then she shivered as lips played against her neck again. "Spike, we have to go," Buffy said, her voice breathy.

Neither Angel nor Spike thought she meant a word of it.

"You know I never let the sun stop me. Not where you're concerned. 'Sides we've got time," he assured her.

  
That was all the coaxing Buffy needed. Within moments she was on the edge, and Spike drew it out a little longer before sending her into climax. As she peaked, he slowly slid himself inside her. He was sure that she would barely notice, he entered her so carefully, but she adjusted to him, lifting her leg backwards to drape over his hip and turning her face over her shoulder to look at him. He moaned, but didn't move, content to feel her quiver around him, and they lay like that for a moment while she recovered. Then he began moving his hips in a slow rhythm and blew soft puffs of air across the skin beneath her ear, causing it to tickle and her body to shiver.

Spike knew the moment she recovered. He felt her body tense just a little, and he smiled when she opened her mouth slightly and her eyes flashed. _Get ready_, he thought to his counterpart. As if on cue, Buffy pulled away, then turned, and leaped back quickly to straddle him. She grabbed his arms and pinned them down forcefully in the same motion, her eyes showing fire. Stretching his wrists above his head, she took them in one hand as she moved the other down his chest. "Don't you move," she almost growled.

"Wouldn't dream of it, pet," he replied, keeping his hands in self-made bondage. She slithered down his body, trailing her fingers and lips as she went. Spike sent Angel a small warning, not in coherent words, but enough for him to brace himself just before Buffy sunk her teeth into the flesh at his hip bone. Spike let out a low growl and his body bucked a little. "God, Buffy, you..." She bit him again and he moaned, his hands clasping and unclasping above his head.

She crawled back up his body. "What, Spike?" Straddling him again, she looked into his lust filled eyes.

He panted slightly now. "God, I love you," he said.

She nodded, her eyes reflecting her acceptance of his words. "Are you mine, Spike?"

"You know the answer," he breathed.

She brushed her lips across his neck then bit him again, harder this time, just above his collarbone. Her teeth left bruised indentations that were pricked with blood.

Spike made a sound, primal with need, and he squirmed beneath her.

Buffy ran her lips across the mark. "Say it, Spike."

"I'm yours, Buffy."

She lifted herself, to gaze down at him, her eyes filled with the power he made her feel. "Are you my willing slave?"

"Always."

She smiled at him, repeating his words from earlier. "So beautiful, my Spike." With a sinuous movement, Buffy moved over him and took him inside her. Spike gasped with pleasure and moved beneath her. She began riding him, her hands moving towards his. Their fingers met halfway, entwining as she held them beside his head. "My demon," she breathed.

"Your demon," he agreed, almost choking with his desire and the impact of her admission.

"Show me," she said.

Spike swallowed hard, his expression asking her if she was sure. 

"Show me," she repeated softly.

Spike let his features change, his eyes becoming gold, and his brow ridges coming to the forefront. He felt exposed and unsure, until Buffy smiled again and began riding him harder. Then Spike lost all coherent thought.

Buffy kept her pace until he finally arched his back and came with a barely controlled howl. "Buffy. God, Buffy." He panted needlessly, his gold eyes not leaving hers as he tried to calm down from his climax. She untwined her hands from his to caress his brow ridges, his cheek bones, and his chin with surprising softness. Finally, she moved off of him, her body coming to rest beside him instead. Her smile was sad, and her eyes were filled with what looked like regret. Spike let his human features return and his expression become soft, never letting her doubt the love that was plainly written there. She wished she could give him more, Spike could tell, but she had given him all she could. He let her see the acceptance in his eyes, telling her without words that it was enough.

"I'll miss you," she said.

"I'll be here, if you need me. Always."

"I do need you, Spike. It will be hard without you."

Spike smiled sadly at her and ran his knuckles down her cheek. "You'll be fine. You're the strongest woman I know."

  
Buffy took in a breath to halt any thoughts of tears. He couldn't have given her a better compliment. She only hoped that she could live up to it.

Without words, they both looked towards the east, knowing that the sun would be rising soon. After one last look, they dressed, intent on cheating the dawn.


	16. Hope

**Author's notes:** Well, here it is guys. The last chapter, but it isn't the end. There is a prologue, and I plan a sequel for all those who are interested – I already have the plot in my head. Thank you so much to everyone who has read this all the way through, and especially to those who have reviewed. You guys have made this all the more fun for me.

Levi - this chapter is for you. I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 14: Hope**

The glow of false dawn was already apparent as they walked through the graveyard. Dew clung to their shoes, the disturbance of its droplets leaving patterns in the grass. Neither said a word until they reached the safety of the crypt. Then it was Angel who spoke, "Buffy, are you in love with..." He cut himself off as she looked in his eyes, and Angel knew she could tell it was him now. It amazed him that this woman could distinguish him so easily, even in the body she was used to seeing as someone else.

"No. I don't know," she tried to answer his unasked question. "I'm going to need time."

Angel wondered if she could tell he was confused by what she'd said to Spike. If she could see the hurt and uncertainty plainly reflected in his eyes.

It seemed that she could. A small sigh escaped her lips. "I'm sorry, Angel, if you don't understand, but I had to tell him. It's the truth."

He wanted to say something to stop her words, not entirely sure he wanted to hear them, but Buffy wouldn't have it. She took the hand he raised in protest into her own, muting her tone to soften the blow as she continued. "Somehow Spike was always mine, my responsibility. Even before the chip. So many times I should have staked him…" She shook her head. "But later he was there for me. And for Dawn. He told me the truth, even when I didn't want to hear it. Other times he just sat and listened, even when I had nothing to say." Her gaze shifted to the crypt floor. "And when he made me feel alive again and tried to love me even as I told him he was nothing. Or when he said things he shouldn't have, because he just wanted me to stay. All those times, in some way, he was always mine." She looked back into his eyes.

Angel nodded slowly. "And now he's also mine. I guess that's something we have in common." He smiled a little and was quiet for a moment. Then he gave her a serious look. "You care about him."

Buffy nodded in return and smiled a little crookedly. "Though that part's fairly new. Even if he is sometimes a pain in the ass." She was still smiling as she said it.

"Spike can be that," Angel agreed. Then he got a pained look on his face as he heard Spike in his head thinking that sometimes a pain in the ass can be downright fun under the right circumstances.

"What?" Buffy asked when she saw his expression change.

Angel shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"Oh, I think I can probably guess," Buffy said as she rolled her eyes. Then she looked out the crypt window and tried to gauge how close it was to dawn. "It's going to be bad, isn't it?" As she returned her eyes to his, her expression was one of worry.

Angel nodded. He could feel Spike becoming restless, his final teasing comment the last bastion of composure he'd had left. "I'm not sure exactly what's going to happen either. Maybe you should leave."

Buffy shook her head. "I'm staying right here. I'll see you through this, both of you."

Holding her arms, he looked into her eyes. "If you need to leave, just go, okay? I'm serious, Buffy. It will probably be better for both of us. We'll get through, but it might be rough for a little while."

"I'll be okay, Angel. I promise..."

It was then that the first wave hit him. Angel's grip tightened on Buffy's arms before he forced himself to let go. He didn't expect the physical pain. That usually came with getting or losing the soul, and his soul was already present. A grunt came from his throat, and he fell to his knees. He vaguely heard Buffy calling his name, but it was drowned out by the anguished scream he heard from Spike as the impact of the soul hit the demon. Then his own consciousness was assaulted as memories of things Spike had done flooded into his being. Angel still had his own memories, though he wasn't sure how. Maybe they were indelibly imprinted on his soul after so many years, but now he inhabited a different body with different memories, and as his soul merged with the new demon in a new body, those memories became part of him as well. Angel vaguely remembered thinking _I should have thought of this_, before he screamed.

"Angel! Angel, what's happening?" Buffy shouted trying to get him to respond. But he only screamed then fell to his knees. "Oh, God, Angel." She felt helpless to do anything but kneel by his side with a comforting hand on his arm. _What's wrong?_ She didn't know, and her façade of calm was crumbling. She watched the body that once belonged to Spike fall to the crypt floor and curl into a ball. Almost without thought, she retrieved one of the blankets from where it lay on Spike's tattered chair and put it over the now shivering form. The shivering stopped, and Angel's body grew still for the moment. He…they couldn't be dead, but how could she tell?

"Buffy," he said, but it came out as a harsh sound. "Rest."

Her mouth a twisted frown, she nodded even though he couldn't see the gesture. "You rest now. I'll be here when you wake up." This was all too much, too fast. She'd kept herself from thinking about it very much while she'd spent those last hours with Spike, because she'd felt he'd deserved her attention. He'd only had that little time left.  But now with no one for company but the unresponsive vampire beside her, there was nothing to stop her silent tears. Spike was likely gone, and Angel… Angel who she hadn't seen since that day he had called her after her return from Heaven… This was him now. And he was here. Was she really ready for it? And was he really ready for the woman she'd become since her return?

Buffy slid to the floor, leaning against the old familiar chair for support, and cried.

*********

Slipping cautiously into the crypt, Willow called Spike's name. No one had answered Tara's knock just a moment before, and they were concerned. After a quick glance around the room, Tara let out a startled "Oh" as she pointed to the vampire's form huddled under the blanket, but Willow's attention was immediately drawn to Buffy. She rushed in and kneeled beside her friend, noticing the tear tracks that marred her cheeks. "Buffy?"

"What's wrong with them, Will? What did you do to him?" Her green eyes were confused.

"It w-was me," Tara said. Her hand rested on the vampire's arm. "It was what he wanted."

"I know," Buffy whispered. "He told me. He didn't want to hurt me." She looked at Tara. "But you could have stopped him."

Tara shook her head sadly. "If I hadn't done the spell, he would've gotten Anya to do it, and I didn't want that. It was too dangerous."

"Why would he…" She shook her head and wiped away any traces of tears. "I know why."

"He really was afraid, Buffy," Tara said. "He wanted you to be happy, but he didn't think he could stay away from you." She softly probed the vampire body in front of her as she spoke, trying to assess any signs of animation. "He w-was going to have me send him away to another dimension before we found out about the problem with the spell. I didn't ask what had scared him. I didn't want…"

"It was a dream." The voice was hoarse but steady. Angel sat up slowly, rolling his muscles and groaning a little. "He had a dream."

"Angel," Buffy said, certain it was him. She moved to his side, but was careful not to touch him to much. "Is that what he told you?"

Angel ran his hands over his face and shook his head. "I have some of his memories now. The most recent ones are the most clear." He looked at Buffy. "Spike has dreams sometimes. Not normal dreams, but more vivid. They tell him things he doesn't always want to admit at first. He had one about you." Angel lowered his head. "A dream where he hurt you while trying to convince you to come back to him."

Buffy's forehead wrinkled and her lips parted a bit. Her eyes darkened as she thought of the last few times she and Spike had shared together before the break up, thinking of how he'd become more insistent and less willing to listen to her. "What kind of dream?"

Angel shook his head. "I can't tell you. It wouldn't be right, but it was bad, bad enough to scare him."

"He really didn't want to hurt me," Buffy said softly. Taking a startled breath, she looked at him as a thought came to her. "Can you still feel him?"

Tara and Willow looked at Angel, concern on their faces. "Yes, is he there at all?" Tara added.

Angel looked solemn as he answered. "He is here, and I suppose in time, I will feel him more than I did Angelus, but…"

"What?" Willow asked. "Is something wrong? You did bind, right, because otherwise… well I guess you wouldn't be 'undead' as it were if he weren't there so..."

"He closed himself off," Angel interrupted her.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked. She felt a cold chill go down her spine at his words. Even in Spike's body, she could read his tone and body language, and they were telling her that this wasn't good.

"It'll take him some time. Guilt over you was one thing, Buffy, but this…"

"With the merging he feels the effect of your soul. He feels guilt for what he's done now," Willow said.

"He knew th-that was coming," Tara added sadly.

"It's different to actually feel it," Angel said. "He'll have to learn to live with it." He shook his head, and said softly. "I think he's trying to shield me from it." He looked at Buffy, and smiled sadly at the irony. "As if over a hundred years hasn't been enough practice."

"Maybe we should go," Tara offered when the ensuing silence became uncomfortable. "You seem to be okay now."

"As long as I don't move too much," Angel joked. "I'd forgotten how much magic can hurt."

Willow smirked knowingly. "Yeah, it's easy to forget that part sometimes." She looked at Tara who stood to move to her side. "We'll go to your house this afternoon, Buffy, and wait for Dawn to come home from school."

"Thank you," Buffy said. "I'll try to be home by dinner."

Tara and Willow left quietly, Buffy barely noticing them. She was looking at Angel, and trying hard not to cry again. How long had she wanted this? It seemed years. She should be grateful for the chance, and she had to agree that she was, but had she known the cost would be so high… No. Spike had done this for her. She would accept the gift, and make sure that it was all worth it. Closing her eyes, she put her arms around Angel and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

*********

As he slowly woke, Angel felt a warm body nearby.  He and Buffy lay together on the sarcophagus, a blanket beneath them, the magic supplies moved to a heap on the floor. His body felt better, because the aching had dulled considerably, but he still felt strange, as if something was different. Then he realized that it was because he was so near to her, and it had been so long since he had been. The fact that Spike's body felt different – lighter and smaller - was likely also a factor. He would have to get used to her being closer to his size now. Moving closer and spooning against her, he decided that it wasn't all bad. Buffy seemed to fit against him perfectly, his cheek nuzzling the back of her head.

She moved a little in her sleep, murmuring. For a moment Angel was surprised that Buffy could so easily sleep on the hard surface, but some recent memories of Spike's reminded him of why that was so. The memories were disconcerting, because he hadn't lived them. They held no real impact; like a movie he'd seen rather than something he'd lived through. They made an impression, but not the same as if he'd actually been there. It probably wasn't unlike Angelus' feelings as he first inhabited Liam's body and inherited the memories. Then why had all Angelus done while he was away seemed so much more affecting when his soul returned?

He closed his eyes trying not to think of Angelus any more, realizing that the demon was why he was holding back, why he tried so hard not to feel too much while Spike and Buffy had been together those last few times in the cemetery. He knew he wanted to be with the woman in his arms right now, but unlike that one day when he'd become human, he was still a vampire, and he remembered all too well what had happened the last time he'd let himself be with her when he was. He couldn't lose his soul. He was bound to Spike, the witches had assured him, but convincing himself of that was another step; a large, scary step that made his stomach clench and his throat tighten. He felt Buffy turn in his arms and opened his eyes to look into hers.

"You okay?" she asked him.

"I will be," he told her, and looking into her soft, worried face, Angel somehow began to believe that he would be.

*********

Four days. It had been four days, and he had done little more than kiss her chastely. After all this time could it be that he didn't even find her attractive anymore? Or worse yet, was he appalled by her now? He'd said that he had some of Spike's memories. _Oh God_, she thought, then pushed her fear doggedly back down. _It is so not for him to judge me. Not now, now that she'd gotten him to spill his little secret involving a certain ex-nemesis of hers named Darla and a now teenaged son named Conner who was wandering around L.A. somewhere. Besides, she understood. It wasn't like she was expecting him to immediately move to Sunnydale and live her life now. She didn't need that from him anymore. This distant moodiness though; that was the pits. Buffy grunted in frustration, pulling her drawer out so hard that it slipped out of the dresser, causing her to fall on her butt and the drawer's contents to spill onto the floor._

"Geez," Dawn commented from the doorway. "Remind me never to be a drawer when you're trying to get ready for patrol. What's the big anyway? Trouble with Angel?"

The name came out a bit sarcastic, and Buffy stuffed down her irritation as she rose from her undignified position. She reminded herself that her sister lost much more than she had in this bargain, because unlike her, Dawn had only lost a friend. In the teen's eyes, there was no good in return. She'd never really had a connection to Angel. "No, no trouble," she answered casually.

"Don't think those are required gear for patrolling anyway," Dawn teased as she pointed to the lacy underwear that Buffy was gathering up and unceremoniously stuffing into the drawer.

There was no time to put it back neatly. Well there was, but the quicker it left her sister's prying eyes the better. "Don't you have homework or something?"

"Oh there's always homework, but this is much more fun. Why don't you try the black ones? Can't go wrong with basic black."

Buffy narrowed her eyes in mock sisterly ire. "And you know this how?"

Dawn shrugged. "Cosmo, 'Sex in the City'…" her eyes grew wide as she realized she'd let that slip. "Or so I've heard," she back-pedaled.

"Oh, I so know that was Spike's doing," Buffy muttered.

"Oh, no, Nibblet, here," she said, pointing to herself. "He'd never let me…" She trailed off and frowned. "He had a moment of weakness in the face of much begging," she admitted. "And a few beers. We were both kinda down, cuz well…"

"I was dead," Buffy concluded.

Dawn nodded somewhat sullenly, but then smirked. She started digging through the closet, quickly and efficiently rejecting outfits. "Besides, don't worry. I paid for it. There was much threatening and big-brotherly-like lectures on the dangers of sex." She rolled her eyes. "As if I didn't know **that already." **

"I'm sure he misses you, Dawn."

"He promised to visit," she almost whispered as she held out a pair of black leather pants and a charcoal gray, long-sleeved shirt. Of course, the outfit was perfect. "Spike keeps his promises, right?"

Buffy nodded as she took the clothing. "Yeah, he does."

********

The vampire population had seen much better days. As she dusted yet another, Angel became certain that something was bothering Buffy. He also had an idea he shouldn't ask, or more precisely that he probably should, but wasn't going to like the answer and the inevitable discussion that would follow. He stopped her from marching on by walking in front of her and taking her arms. _You shouldn't, his brain warned him. "Buffy what's wrong?" _Stupid_._

"It's me, isn't it?" she said flatly, crossing her arms.

_Uh, oh_, Angel thought. It was more than him that recognized the fire in her eyes. Although he hadn't felt anything from Spike other than small impressions in these last few days, memories of her expressions and more recent moods were there. This one was definitely dangerous territory.

In his silence, Buffy continued. It seemed that his non-reply counted as an answer.  "Well excuse me, Angel. It wasn't exactly easy coming back here after being where I was. I'm sorry if I no longer live up to your expectations of a 'good girl', or if you no longer find me attractive because of it, but I…"

He grabbed her and kissed her hard. _That'll shut her up_, something in his mind told him, and he thanked whatever it was as she returned the kiss. Angel wrapped his arms around her, surprisingly enjoying that she didn't have to stand on tip toes to kiss him. He liked the feeling of her strong arms snaking around him as well, reaching into his hair.

After a moment she broke the kiss. "That didn't really answer my question. Well, okay, it did a little."

"I've been worried, Buffy," he admitted before he lost his nerve. "Last time we were… together, it didn't end well if you remember."

An expression crossed her face, an understanding. Then she looked at him with love. And assurance. "That's not going to happen this time, and even if it did, Angelus won't take over. He can't. And even if it did, we'd just get your soul back again if you lost it." She put a hand on his cheek, stopping him from looking away. "But that's **not gonna happen. If Spike used magic, he only would've done it if he was sure it would work."**

Angel closed his eyes and looked down, knowing he was going to regret telling her this next thing.

"You're leaving tomorrow night," Buffy stated before he even opened his mouth.

Angel looked at her with amazement. When had she gotten so good at reading him? "I'll come back. Soon. But I have to…"

"I know," she interrupted him. "I know you have a life there, Angel, and a son to find and reconcile with. I don't need you to be here all the time. I can stand on my own now." She smiled reassuringly. "But having you here sometimes will be good."

Angel smiled back. _God, she was incredible_. "Buffy, I have to leave tomorrow night," he said teasingly.

"Then I guess we'll have to make the most of tonight, won't we?" She gave him an inviting smile which turned into a teasing smirk. "Just one more cemetery…"

Angel grunted and pulled her against him. "I think we've done enough patrolling tonight." To prove his point, he kissed her again, his lips meeting hers first softly, then with more insistence. He could feel her heart racing against his chest and hear the sound of her soft moan. He had missed these feelings so much. Forcing himself to withdraw for a moment, Angel looked into her flushed face. "Let's go home."

They made it as far as Spike's crypt.

********

Concentrating on the sounds of the rushing air and the surrounding road, Angel drove down the freeway towards L.A. The stars and clear sky above him provided another welcome distraction as did his memories of being in Buffy's arms the night before. Just as wonderful were the memories of waking in those same arms the next morning. The look on Buffy's face to finally see him there beside her when she woke was truly a gift he never thought he'd receive. The memories carried him almost all the way to the outskirts of town, but the increasing traffic was making it hard to let that particular distraction continue without some sort of repercussion.

Turning on the radio came next. He flipped through the channels, thinking it fate when he found a Barry Mannilow tune that had just begun, but when commercials came on right after, he decided he'd put it off long enough. Picking up the dreaded thing Cordelia called a necessity, Angel punched in the numbers on the cell phone, already imagining the urge he was sure to have to throw it out on the highway and watch a truck run over it. No, nothing could go wrong now. He was finally happy, and he didn't have to be afraid of that happiness anymore. In time, he hoped Spike would be happy with him. There was hope; he was sure he'd felt him last night when he was with Buffy.

The ringing stopped, and a familiar voice said "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless" with only minimal interference from static.

"Cordy," he replied. "I'm on my way back now. I have something to warn you about though before I get there…" He smiled, imagining that for once he might actually surprise the unflappable Cordelia. Perhaps he wouldn't tell her the whole story, let her be surprised in person. Claiming interference from static would be a good excuse to leave out the details. His smile widened. This was going to be fun. From now on, a lot more things were going to be fun.

Only the epilogue to go – and it's done – so go now.


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

Sometimes as they lay entwined, Angel would look at her, and he would know. Buffy didn't know how he could tell. Maybe there was a look in her eyes or a turning of her lip, but somehow he knew. And he understood. At that moment, she didn't want tenderness or light, the things that signified him. She needed the other. She wanted the darkness. Buffy sometimes thought she could sense a small hurt in his eyes then, but it would fade. Angel wouldn't deny her, and he wouldn't deny **him**. "I love you," he would say then let himself fall away, give himself over.

The change would be gradual. Angel's now blue eyes would turn gold, then his brow would change, and his touch would grow a little rougher. Once his lips curled into that smirk, still sexy despite the fangs, she knew Angel was no longer in control, and she held nothing back. Once Spike had control, their union was fire and passion above all else. There was still love, especially from him, but it was buried beneath an avalanche of need and desire and rough, animal lust. When she closed her eyes, she could recall the expressive blue eyes and the chiseled features of the Spike she once knew, and remember when she had needed him so desperately, and how sometimes, even how, she still did. Buffy could let herself go and be lost for a while. But she always opened her eyes again to look into his gold ones. She always gave him that.

Sometimes there was momentary guilt, just as there had been before, but that faded more quickly as time passed. Then she had mostly used him; now it was different. She did love this demon, her Spike, because she now knew he wasn't simply a monster. Something that was just an evil demon would never have sacrificed so much for her, never would have become almost a prisoner in his own body, taking only stolen moments for himself. For her, Spike had allowed himself to exist in Angel's shadow. And for that, Buffy would always love him. She hoped he could see it in her eyes, even if she could never bring herself to say it. Somehow, she knew he did. Just as somehow she knew he would someday be healed from the effects of Angel's soul.

He was getting better and better as the weeks passed, because more and more she saw glimpses of things that were fundamentally Spike: the way he tilted his head, the way he looked into her eyes and didn't let her turn away, or the way he never let her delude herself, bringing her to her senses with just a look. Spike was still there, his presence more than they had expected from the spell, and Buffy was glad that it was so. She hadn't wanted to be without him, without either of them.

Buffy knew now with increasing clarity that she could never have the contentment of a normal life, but perhaps she had something better. She had the love of two beings who would do anything for her happiness. She had her Angel, the man with the beautiful soul who would always long to take her into the light. And she had the demon, her Spike, who understood that she sometimes wanted the darkness and who would be content to love her in the shadows.

End Book One

**Author's notes**: I hope I didn't lose everyone with the ending to my story – I just couldn't in my heart go with the obvious.

Thank you all again for taking the time to read my story, and to those who reviewed - it is your reviews that inspire me to continue writing.

For those that wish to continue – see you again in the sequel.

Night Nymph


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